


Drawing Bloodlines

by SillyBlue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Female Castiel, First Time, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-10
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-18 09:21:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 43,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SillyBlue/pseuds/SillyBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While the seals are falling and the Apocalypse looms over the Winchesters, Castiel receives a gift of God that will enable them to stop Lucifer once and for all.<br/>All it takes is the blood of a child born of a chosen man and an angel. Dean/girl!Castiel. Set after 4x16 On the Head of a Pin.</p>
<p>Written for the kinkmeme! Original Prompt: An alternative to S4 where girl!Cas learns the only way to stop Lucifer from destroying the world is half-angel half-Winchester babies. She and Dean get to work saving the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this ages ago. I'm not quite sure why it took me so long to gain enough confidence to post it! It's still a WIP, but the first part of the story is done. So far it has 8 chapters that I'll post over the next few weeks, allowing for beta reading and time to write the second part.
> 
> This is told from always-a-female-vessel!Castiel's POV. The Mildly Dubious Consent warning stems from the facts that a) Jimmy (Jamie Novak) didn't sign up for angel babies and b) Castiel is afraid of what this new duty could do to her. Also, Dean isn't entirely happy about the circumstances of their relationship, but he's happy there is one.
> 
> Great thanks to my beta esmerod who took pity on me and read through this!

Amidst the seals breaking all over the world and opportunities to stop the impending Apocalypse running though her fingers like sand, Castiel started to doubt.

She was a soldier of God, she had never been anything else and had never aspired to be anything else. Had not even known how to aspire. She knew how to follow orders and she knew how to devote herself to a goal. She firmly believed in God just as she firmly believed in God’s plans.

But she did doubt. Was she doing the right thing? Where were her actions leading her? Was she still doing God’s will?

The one man she was trying to protect was caving in under the weight of guilt and duty. She experienced… compassion. Regret. Her superiors had been right when they had accused her of getting too close. She had not done so on purpose; having no grasp on emotion apart from her fathomless love for God, she could not have known. She did feel something for the Righteous Man. She wanted to help him, she wanted to heal.

Dean had said that if she wants to help, then she should just get working on stopping the apocalypse for once, instead of sprouting mysterious nonsense. Castiel felt… weightless, insignificant in a swirl of expectations she knew not what to do with.

“Look, just hit the books with us,” Sam offered, apparently the only one able to grasp how out of her depth she was with Dean’s request and with her newly discovered desire to help them instead of merely furthering the cause. She didn’t know where to put all of her thoughts and sensations coursing through her body. She did not have the words to name them, not the experience to distinguish them, not the pigeon holes for clear filing away. She did not know where one emotion started and the other ended. And she didn’t know what to do with them apart from being frozen under the onslaught of new, unpleasant feelings.

“She looks rather constipated. You think she’s on her period?” Dean jokingly asked Sam. Castiel missed the irritated look the younger Winchester rewarded Dean with. “Come on, Cas, just strap on your wings and dig up some useful way to stop Satan from climbing out of his hole!”

Castiel might not know what she was going through, if “being on her period” was the accurate description of her emotional landscape or what to do with it, _against_ it. But she knew how to follow an order. So she did a little digging.

* * *

The seals shattered, demons spread and Castiel buckled under what she had come to learn. While Sam and Dean continued turning page upon page of old human lore, dusty, reality washed thin by time and mistranslation, Castiel had walked amongst the men and women of ages past and searched the amassed knowledge of Heaven. Tugged away far from the Host, in a little niche of the intricate woven tapestry of time and space, she received the Word. Sharp and clear, a blessing breathed unto her Essence unfiltered and loving. Castiel crashed through time in surprise and surrounded by children, their kites momentarily forgotten, she wept. Finding no relief in the startlingly human reaction but in the small hands gently tracing her face she raised her head to the Heavens and tried again. She sang a Hymn in His blessing and the children joined in: _Holy holy holy, is the Lord of hosts: the whole earth is full of His glory._

She found her way back to the little flicker in the steady glow of time, where in a dimly lit motel room, smelling of gun powder, blood and stale air, she would whisper to them of the Word of God.

* * *

“I believe to have found a way to prevent the Apocalypse.” The Winchester brothers looked up from their books, startled by her sudden appearance.

“You mean other than stopping the seals from breaking?” Sam wondered, immediately interested, whereas Dean looked her up and down with scrutiny. She felt unease like a gnawing knot in the pit of her vessel’s stomach and she wound her Grace around it, trying to smother it beneath layers of her essence. She was an angel. She was a soldier. She shall not doubt. She shall not fear. But under Dean Winchester’s hard look and Sam Winchester’s hopeful one, she faltered yet again. Faltered, but refused to stumble.

“Man, Cas, you look like shit,” Dean said and Castiel raised her head to gaze at him, lowering her brows at the insult.

“Dean!” Sam admonished, rubbing his fingers over his eyes in irritation but Dean just shot him a glare. Sam’s eyes travelled up Castiel’s human frame and she could hear the snippets of not quite formed thoughts. “But you do look slightly… ill at ease,” was what made it past his lips. Castiel kept to her spot near the door, not moving, her posture stiff, while she studied the two of them without giving an answer. Sam raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Okay, listen… Why don’t you just tell us what you’ve found out?” A direct request about the task at hand; it was an offering to forego the discussion of her state and she was grateful to the younger Winchester. Castiel’s shoulders straightened and she looked from one brother to the other. And she felt the limitations of human expressions. How could she convey to them the words her Father had spoken to her? How to reform a loving whisper into words the humans could understand? For a moment she let herself wish for Gabriel’s presence; he had always been rather good at delivering revelations upon humans. But she? She was clumsy at best. Still, her Father had made her this gift of knowledge, this gift of purpose. She would have to try.

“Lucifer’s rising is dependent on the destruction of seals and as they are too many to guard it is almost impossible to preserve them. We cannot forge new seals to replace the others; what is broken will remain so until God recreates them…,” she explained and felt how Dean’s patience wavered.

“Very uplifting, Cas. Have you got anything useful?” he asked tauntingly to which she could just press her lips together. The same swirling and unsettling mass of indistinguishable feelings seized her again. Maybe, she thought, trying to regain control, this is frustration. She decided to go with this realization, trying to remove herself from what she was feeling, label it, store it away. It made the situation momentarily better and she focused on her task again.

“The cage and Lucifer with it can be purified. Not entirely, but it will weaken him greatly and put him to sleep. Even if all the seals were to be broken, Lucifer will not walk out of his cage.” She could read the surprise on the humans’ faces.

“So we just put him into another time-out?” Dean asked, taking a step towards her and she fought the impulse to fly. “What if demons drag his ass out?”

“They cannot. They will not be able to cross into the cage or summon him outside,” she explained but she could see that Dean was not as pleased with this as she had hoped. If the aim was already disputable in his eyes, then how could he possibly react to the details of the plan’s execution?

“So, you’ll just let the seals break? The doors will be wide open by the time he wakes and regains his mojo!” Dean argued and frustration clawed again at Castiel’s composure – she felt the urge to cry out, but she forced it down. Sam lifted his hand in Dean’s direction.

“Dean, please,” he hissed at his brother, before turning his attention back to Castiel. “We appreciate your help, but I think Dean’s right; too many things could go wrong. This will not solve our problem even if it will buy us time…”

“No… no you don’t understand,” Castiel started and Sam looked at her in surprise. She stopped and considered her choice of words before continuing. “This is not an option I am presenting you. This is the new course of action. I have to stop Lucifer from destroying your world; I have to help banish his Grace. These are _my_ orders,” she told them. Dean and Sam looked at each other following her announcement, then Dean took a cautious step towards her, but she backed off immediately, almost pressing up against the wall. The reaction had been completely involuntary, but she could not force herself to relax, because this was only Dean, only a human, the Righteous Man who might still be the one to end it. But her vessel could not catch up with her fast running thoughts and she could not keep up with her vessel’s impulses. Dean widened his eyes and he appeared more hurt than startled, but he raised both of his hands. Castiel assumed that it should be soothing, but with the irrational frustration she felt right now, she was sure that being treated like a startled animal would fail to help.

“Cas! Easy, sweetheart,” Dean whispered while Sam admonishingly hissed his name yet again. Castiel was not overly fond of Dean’s attempts at placating her; his good intentions to make her calm down actually shamed her. She should not be in such a state, so she closed her eyes, trying to resettle in the tight confines of her vessel and nervously shook her wings as a human might shake their head in an effort to regain her composure. The only thing the Winchesters saw was her straightening though and Dean let his hands drop.

“Okay, you said you had new orders,” Sam started when he felt it was safe to talk again. Castiel nodded and Dean gave a snort which had her turn her head towards him.

“And what kind of dick decided on such half-assed plans?” he spat. Castiel could read all the emotions falling off him like waves crashing on a shore – anger, irritation, frustration, fear, guilt, hope. She found it so easy to read and name human emotions, but her own (which should not even exist) were immensely difficult to grasp. But she knew she was irritated now by Dean’s disrespectful way of talking.

“God,” she announced. It was satisfaction she felt upon seeing Dean’s expression fall and his cheeks lose their rosy color. “God gave me a new mission.” Sam was up in an instant, the chair screeching as it was shoved over the floor, his entire face was lit up with awe and unconcealed hope.

“God…? God Himself spoke to you?” Sam breathed, his voice low and Castiel had troubles hearing it amongst all his frantic half-formed thoughts tumbling around in his mind. She nodded, but whereas Sam drew his hand through his hair in amazement, Dean wasn’t exactly thrilled. The spark of hope was still there though, Castiel could feel it pulsating like a fluttering heartbeat. She had to focus on that, because she could not do it without the Winchesters’ cooperation.

“Wait a moment,” Dean said and his expression was full of doubt and disdain. “I thought nobody had heard from your boss? Anna said that only four angels have ever seen Him!” Castiel nodded, because it was the truth, even though she was not exactly fond of the idea of Anna furthering Dean’s lack of faith this way. Dean wiped his fingers over his mouth and shook his head. “And you receive new orders all of a sudden and you don’t even second-guess them? Cas! We’ve had angels killing angels just a few weeks ago and you don’t even think that this could all be another plot?” Castiel looked at him calmly, because while she might be able to understand his reasons to doubt, they were not necessary.

“It was God,” she firmly repeated, shaking her head at any retort Dean might come up with. “While I do not understand why He chose me for such an important task, I do not doubt it...”

“Well, you’re practically the only angel that gives a rat’s ass about what’s happening to us,” Dean replied and managed a half-grin at Castiel’s puzzled face. He walked a few steps around the room, all under the attentive observation of the angel, while he apparently was making up his mind.

“So… Assuming that it really was God-“

“I am an angel, Dean. I _know_ it was God,” Castiel interrupted him, but he waved her off. She was still shaken enough to take offense in this, but decided to keep silent.

“What exactly does he want you to do?” Castiel was glad that the Winchesters were no longer strictly against the purification of the cage and its sole inhabitant. Castiel again worried about finding the right words because she knew this was a delicate topic. She doubted the Winchesters would be appreciative of her being straight to the point. However, seeing as Castiel was not good with words, she might have to be blunt after all. The two men were looking at her expectantly by the time she was ready to speak to them.

“The purification of Lucifer requires a ritual… It is no easy endeavor and a lot of time for preparation is unavoidable… But getting the bigger part of the ingredients should not be an issue,” she explained and Dean looked at her expectantly.

“Then why are you still here? Go and get the stuff!” Dean urged, but Sam shot him a dark look that effectively shut his brother up, before he turned to look at Castiel.  
“Thank you, Castiel. That’s great, finally we have something we can actually _do_. Tell us, how can we help?” Castiel lowered her head. This was- no, she shall not doubt God’s Word. He had chosen her, so she was able to perform this task. This was an honor He had bestowed upon her, a praise of her work and dedication so far. She will not waver now; _this was right_.

“ _I will breathe onto you the gift of life. For you to prosper and cast benediction upon those that are standing before Me, bereft. The Chosen’s blood will become your blood and your Grace will become his blood. In due time, mark the door with a sign and My Glory will purify.”_

Castiel touched her chest after she had repeated God’s whispered words to her. It had been his gift and she felt exposed now that she had shared it with human ears, but there had been no other choice but to do so. When she looked up, she found Dean and Sam still trying to process her words. Sam was staring at the screen of his laptop where he had apparently copied her words. She could hear both of them thinking frantically, trying to make sense of the words, but she closed her perception to them, like she had closed herself off to the Host so that they would not hear her repeat the prophecy. There must have been a reason that God had addressed her directly instead of relaying the message through the Prophet Chuck, Joshua or her superiors.

“Castiel?” It was Sam speaking and when she opened her eyes she saw the exchange of silent glances between the brothers before the taller Winchester looked at her. His expression was almost timid and mostly it was gentle – which really caused her to wonder how a good person like him could defile himself willingly. She knew he intended well, but it did not make it any less dangerous and she would have to tell him again that Heaven did not need this kind of sacrifice from him. Sam coughed uneasily and she focused on him again. “Just to be sure. Those were God’s exact words to you?” Castiel nodded slowly and Dean shot his brother a perturbed glance. She was silent throughout another wordless exchange, and she could see the two of them making some strange signs with their hands which eventually had Dean hiss and Sam sigh in relief. Unsure what to make of it Castiel waited. Dean rolled his shoulders nervously and took a step towards her. This time she did not flinch, but focused her eyes on him alone.

“Uhm… unless Sam and I are completely off the track, does God actually want you to… you know… _Have a baby_?” The last few words were said in a hasty mumble followed closely by an embarrassed cough. Castiel continued staring at Dean and saw his skin redden from the neck upwards. “It’s just… The whole… Gift of life, his blood thing you know? Is that it or…?”

“Yes, God commands the mingling of human and celestial essence. It has been millennia since this last came to happen,” Castiel answered and Dean widened his eyes. Apparently he had hoped to be proven wrong.

“And you… you’re sure this is not some trick after all? One of the seals requesting a half angel, half human child to be born?” Sam asked into the tense silence following her statement and Castiel tilted her head, feeling a slight restlessness with their constant doubting, but she assumed that it was to be expected so she endured it.

“This is no seal. This is God’s _blessing_ ,” she replied patiently. Dean squeezed his eyes shut, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Some sort of blessing,” he snorted and Castiel turned towards him. “Look, unless you’re some giant incubator for angel chicks, then this whole… _thing_ will take several months!”

“I am aware,” she told him coolly, uncomfortable with the way he talked, the way he looked at her. Actually, she assumed that she was uncomfortable with the entire situation. She was just a low angel, one among thousands, so why _her_? She was flawed, she doubted, she was _afraid_. Somehow a part of her unwanted emotions must have shown themselves because Dean’s face softened from irritated to worried.

“Cas…”

“If we manage to do it in time, the Apocalypse will be averted,” she interrupted him, voice steady but urgent, “but it has to happen before Lucifer’s cage is opened. It will be much harder to find a way to purify him if he’s actually walking the earth. Never mind the thousands upon thousands of humans who will lose their lives.” Neither of the three said anything for a couple of moments, until Sam shut his laptop and looked at them.

“Then I guess we have to figure out who the Chosen one is…,” he said and Castiel frowned. Sam inched backwards, suddenly shy again under her displeased expression.

“Man, Cas, don’t stare at him like that, you’re scaring him!” Castiel was irritated that Dean even had the gall to go joking around like that.

“The Boy with the Demon Blood. The Righteous Man,” she said and Dean winced as if he had expected this all along. “You two are pivotal to the course of the Apocalypse. I am not entirely sure what the Host has planned for the two of you, but even now that God has intervened, this remains unchanged.”

“Oh man, no! _No_!” Dean groaned and kicked the bed with as much force as he could muster. Sam had blanched, his entire face devoid of color, sinking so low into his chair that he looked small and young.

“It has to be a Winchester it seems,” Castiel said, despite Dean’s continuous stream of borderline blasphemous curses. “I cannot be sure of who of you two is more fitting…”

“Doesn’t… the Demon Blood thing disqualify me or something?” Sam asked meekly and shied away from Castiel’s gaze.

“No,” she told him and there was a mixture of relief and anxiety on Sam’s face, “but do not fool yourself into thinking that Heaven approves of it.” Dean, in all of his frustration, still found the time to hiss a _listen to her Sammy_ at his younger brother. Castiel lowered her gaze to the floor. She had informed them of God’s intent, now she would probably need to wait for the Winchesters to make a move; to either reject or accept the offer to save the world. She knew that they could not be as stupid as defying God, not when there were millions of lives at stake, not when this was the right thing to do. But the Winchesters had already proved to be more of a hassle than the Host had expected – they had underestimated the humans. Probably, Castiel mused, because they did not understand them. They were not like angels, they were… without order. They were anarchy. They were selfish. They were individuals. Maybe the Host had not given them enough credit.

“I think we should try to work this out over food,” Dean said after a while, “I can’t possibly deal with this on an empty stomach.”

“I’ll get some burgers from the diner!” Sam was very quick to volunteer Castiel noted, but Dean did not put up a fight. He merely nodded at his brother and soon the younger Winchester was out of the door, but not without having sent her one last shy, almost overwhelmed look.

As soon as Dean had heard the doors of the Impala out on the parking lot slam shut, he groaned and sat himself down on one of the beds.

“You are not in favor of this,” Castiel observed. And it was the truth, she could see his unease even without reading his mind. Dean glared up at her.

“Who would be?”

“Who wouldn’t be?” Castiel countered and Dean’s expression froze somewhere between angry and surprised. “You are given the chance to stop the end of the world… The… _sacrifice_ ,” the word was hard to push past her lips, it felt wrong, but it was what it was, “is a small one.”

“A small one? Cas, if I understood you correctly you’ll use the whatever-it-will-be’s blood in your purification ritual,” Dean hissed and Castiel nodded at him, even if this sacrifice had not been the one on her mind.

“That is correct.” The man looked disgusted, then he let his head drop, breaking eye contact with Castiel.

“No, no, no. Cas! That is all kinds of wrong!” He shot up and Castiel forced herself to stand her ground, even with Dean looming over her. Her vessel was not short and she wore heels that rendered the difference in height even less significant, but the look in Dean’s eyes – anger, frustration, pain, guilt – made her feel small. Less like an angel and far less than this man in front of her. “Are you really that dead inside?! Don’t you care one bit?”

“My thoughts on the matter are of no consequence,” she told him evenly, but not ungentle, because it was the truth. Dean raised his hands as if to shake her, but he stopped himself and turned away from her. “Dean… I understand that this is probably not the kind of help you had imagined me to find… But it is all I can do… It is all that I can offer you…”

“I…,” Dean shook his head and mumbled something. Castiel didn’t move from her spot and she didn’t pry into his thoughts either. She merely waited for him to speak up. “I can’t have Sam do this…” He turned around again and met Castiel’s eyes. “He might have a crush on you, but I won’t put him through this.” Castiel didn’t quite understand what he was telling her, but she nodded tentatively. “I’m the one who started it and you said I’m the one who will end it… So… You’ll have to do with me.” Castiel studied the man in front of her, hesitating just a moment, wanting to run. Just a moment, she allowed herself this instant of doubt when she thought about flying away even though she knew she could never go against God’s wishes. In the end she nodded. She was glad. It was Dean. The Righteous Man, the man she had deviated from her existence without doubt for.

Sam came back earlier than expected, she felt his presence nearing and before long he was back in the motel room, carrying two bags of food. He looked from his brother to Castiel, testing the atmosphere in the room, studying their faces. Castiel still kept close to her vessel, because the onslaught of their emotions, thoughts and aborted attempts at formulating sentences made her feel… lightheaded, unwell, like she was falling through air without her wings to stop the fall. Nausea, her brain prompted, this is nausea.

“You’ve made up your mind, haven’t you?” Sam asked and he sounded resigned.

“It’s no big deal, Sammy,” Dean reassured him with an easy smile and Castiel was momentarily confused by the lie. Then she realized that it was intended to soothe Sam. “You’ve had your fair share of supernatural women. But if you really want to give it a shot, then be my guest.” Sam’s face changed immediately to one of disgust.

“Dean, stop being so crass!” Castiel withdrew to the wall and stood there, silent, listening, thinking. This is God’s will. This is right. _This is right_.

* * *

Both the Winchesters and Castiel knew that they were not allowed to dally. Castiel still got information from Zachariah, but as before, they were sparse, only just the minimal requirement to know where a seal was just as it was about to be broken. The angels fought their battles, but they lost more than they won, simply because they were running out of time.

“Can’t you do anything about this? What are your angel buddies up there doing?!” Dean hissed when Castiel reported the loss of another seal only hours after she’d left to give the two time to think.

“We are fighting, Dean. But there are many seals and the demons can choose any of them. We’re trying to protect the ones with specific requirements but our numbers are limited.”

“Yeah, yeah I got that! I have no idea what your boss is thinking! This can’t possibly work out!” Dean yelled, gulping down his coffee to keep the sleep away. “You’d assume he’d stall some time for you to pop out magical messiah babies!”

“It will be no messiah,” Castiel replied flatly. If God hadn’t commanded it, then Castiel would disdainfully call it an abomination. But like this she was inclined (even if it was begrudgingly) to call it a miracle. Dean eyed her suspiciously, then he shook his head before turning to his brother. Sam was scrolling through a page attentively and had done so for the last few hours instead of sleeping.

“What exactly are you doing?”

“Research, obviously,” Sam replied and eyed Dean over the top of his laptop. Dean raised an eyebrow at him.

“We’ve got a case?” The younger Winchester sighed dramatically, but then he peeked at Castiel, who just quietly returned the gaze. Dean noticed and groaned. “Don’t tell me you’ve researched baby related stuff? This whole time?”

“Dean, we gotta be realistic here. This is still a chance we should take. Nobody said that we can’t do our best at stopping the seals from breaking. It’s not like you need to do much after… you know…” Castiel saw in Dean’s face that he knew very well but would rather not be reminded of it. “Castiel? Sorry to ask…,” Sam said and Castiel walked over to him. Sam appeared embarrassed. “Have you been on your period lately?”

“Sam! What the hell?!” Sam lifted his hands defensively. “Jesus Christ!” Castiel wasn’t sure what had caused Dean’s sudden embarrassed anger, but she was unaffected by it.

“No… This body stopped all its usual functions when I took it… But I assume that God wants me to be receptive to either of your seed whenever it pleases you to do the act.”

“Oh God, Cas…! Stop talking like that!” Dean said with a shudder and even Sam seemed slightly put off. “Shit, why do we need to do this?!”

“Because it will save the world?” Sam offered weakly and Dean rolled his eyes up to the motel room’s ceiling. Castiel didn’t need to listen in on his thoughts to know that he was sending some rude mockery of a prayer to the Lord.

“So… what do you suggest? Do you think this will work on the first try?” Sam wondered and Castiel contemplated it, but she did not know the answer to this. Ever since God had spoken to her and gave her his “gift of Life” she had become more aware of the physical body around her. Before it had felt like nothing but a thin, warm wall that was tight, constricting, but resonated faintly with the hum of her host’s soul. Now… now the sensations of skin, blood, membranes, muscles and bones pressed closer and closer. It felt… wrong. Sticky, moist, dissonant. A heart that lay heavy and still in her chest. Lungs that were empty and just an itch away from feeling uncomfortable. A brain making her head heavy. And then her womb. An angel had no use for a body, an angel had no use for reproductive organs, and having both now, aware of the human shell in ways that made her so uncomfortable, was like a tainting disease. This body was slowly coming to life, she would make it alive with Dean’s blood. And she felt constricted, shackled down to earth with her wings bound. So tight in this body, it was getting warmer, and the sluggish heart beat once. Sickeningly slow the heavy blood moved within her and she gasped.

“Castiel!” Dean grabbed her arms before she could keel over and she raised her head to meet his concerned eyes. “Cas… Cas, is everything okay?”

“No…,” she said in a tense voice and as he wanted to guide her to the bed – it smelt of him, the impression of his body in the stiff mattress, the bodily fluids _and his blood in her body_ \- she bristled. And the motel room sped away, thousands of miles and centuries away until Castiel could draw a breath into her foreign but aching lungs. Sitting among sheep in the shade of an olive tree she cried out for her Father to take pity on her, but only the dryad against whose gentle lap she rested her head listened to her sorrow.

* * *

Castiel has learnt to feel, label and store away shame by the time she returned to the Winchesters. It was a different motel room in a different city on a different day.

“Cas! Where were you?! Are you alright?!” Dean shouted, but it was Sam that reached out to put a steadying hand to the small of her back.  She cast her eyes down after having seen the genuine worry in their eyes.

“I must apologize. It seems that I was overwhelmed. I needed a moment to regain my composure,” she said softly and Sam’s hand on her back moved slightly, pulling her closer to him. She knew that this was a protective gesture, she knew that he meant well, but she was still an angel.

“No need to feel embarrassed about it,” Sam told her and she looked up at him. “We understand.” He smiled at her and nodded at Dean. “We two are pretty out of our depth too… but we’ll manage…” Castiel looked at both of them, both of whom were putting up smiles on their faces. Their demeanor was different than last time, more careful, gentler. Castiel wasn’t sure whether she liked the change, but at least this promised progress to her new purpose. She nodded and Sam guided her to the bed (Castiel did not look at it) and made her sit down. Dean was sitting on the other one, hands folded between his legs, and looking at her.

“There’s actually something I need to ask you about,” Sam said and she tore her gaze away to look at the younger Winchester turning around his laptop. “There’s this piece of lore… about the sons of God and the daughter of men mixing…”

“Ah, yes,” Castiel acknowledged him and Sam felt encouraged to go on.

“I had Bobby look into it for us,” Sam continued, “but sources are not really reliable… There was one very old record that claimed that the sons of God impregnated women, that the result were very violent, very vicious half-breeds. At times they get referred to as giants, popular belief calls them Nephilim… In any case, the women never survived because the offspring tore right out of their bellies after a rather short pregnancy…” Castiel remained silent and Dean hit her ankle with his foot to get her attention.

“That’s… not going to happen, is it? You’re not going to explode from a monster baby?”

“No,” she said and heaved a sigh. “Those occurrences were very unfortunate. A human body is not suited to sustain a lengthy exposure to angelic essence of any kind unless it is meant to be a host. And angels didn’t take vessels that early on, we simply cloaked ourselves in a thin layer of God’s creation if we wanted to interact with humans. In any case, only sin and death will come out of a union of lust. That was a lesson God wanted to teach the Host… And it generally was a lesson well learned.” She looked at the brothers and noticed their rather troubled expressions. “What?”

“Uh… Union of lust?” Dean repeated cautiously. Castiel nodded, confused when Dean started fidgeting.

“What Dean means to say,” Sam continued when Dean only mumbled incoherent things under Castiel’s perplexed stare, “is that this could prove to be an additional problem…” Sam turned his eyes towards Dean, who nodded at him. “If God is against angels giving in to carnal pleasure, then how can this turn out well?”

“I do not act upon carnal pleasure,” Castiel replied, appalled at the assumption. Dean raised his hands, palms facing her and she frowned first at them, then at him.

“Cas, you do know how babies are made, do you?” At Castiel’s furious glare, he hurried on: “unless you just want my sperm in a cup then there’s no way around some carnal activities!”

“I understand that well enough,” she told him, as calm as possible, “rest assured that while I do not know what form the offspring will take, it is still blessed by God. It will not tear the world asunder.” But it might tear her asunder – the little flicker of thought passed her mind, made small and fearful by its close connection to the vessel.

“O… Okay,” was all Dean could contribute and he exchanged a look with his brother. Castiel had her eyes firmly on Dean’s face, but she could see how Sam made a gesture towards Dean, something Dean rewarded with a nod. Then his face changed, his eyes softening but gaining determination as they focused on her and he reached out, carefully, curling his hand around her vessel’s knee. She felt how warm it was, moist through the thin fabric of the stockings. She felt the drum of his rapid heartbeat in the tips of his fingers. She felt every line on his palm as it pressed to the thin skin stretched over sharp bone. He gave her knee a squeeze before he let go and rose to his feet.

“So…,” he coughed and Castiel’s gaze left her knee where she could still feel the warmth and the perspiration of Dean’s hand to turn to his face once again. He was nervous. “Sam and I… we guess that it’s best if we just… do it? If you’re ready I mean… If there’s one thing I hate to do then it’s pushing a girl into doing something she does not want to do.” Castiel studied him, but then she drew an experimental breath into her still aching lungs and stood.

“I am ready,” she said, because nothing else he had said warranted elaboration. She then turned her eyes away from Dean (his thoughts were mangled snippets of _how should I do it, what should I say, will she like it, can I do it, this isn’t right_ ) and studied the bed Dean had sat on. Then she started pulling off her coat.

“Dean!” Sam called in alarm (but there was no danger here, the nearest spirit was loitering about an empty house, the next demon miles away) and Dean grabbed her wrist. Castiel turned her head slowly, eyes widened.

“No, Cas! Not _here_ , not like this!” he said, pulling the coat back up her arms and straightened the collar. He was embarrassed, his face red, but there was also frustration there and… pain.

“Why do you feel bad?” Castiel asked him when she translated the emotion she saw into coherent thoughts. She tilted her head in wonder, trying to read the deeper meaning in his eyes without slipping past the surface of his mind. Dean’s grip on her shoulder strengthened and there it was again, the rapid pulse of his heartbeat vibrating through his fingertips. Her heart gave another slow shudder, her blood surging forwards in her veins and her lungs demanded air, but she refused and the blood stilled.

“Look, Cas,” Dean started, sighing and he leaned forwards a bit, his forehead almost touching hers. “This is… difficult for all of us… And it will not be any easier for me if you act like you don’t care that this has to happen…” His eyes bore into her with a fierce intensity and there was comfort to be found in his hand on her shoulder and the close proximity between them. His body was warm, his heart-beat steady. Yet again the heart beat lazily within her vessel’s body. She nodded.

“I understand,” she told him even though she was not entirely sure what he wanted her to do. Dean straightened when Sam coughed and Castiel almost missed Dean’s attention. She disliked that particular thought and wondered if she should try her best to not slip farther into the blood and bone cage of her vessel.

“I booked you a room in a hotel in town and there is a restaurant near-by. Nothing all too fancy, Italian.” Castiel was at a loss about the meaning of his words.

“Thanks, Sam…,” Dean replied, taking the piece of paper his brother held out towards him, and then he grabbed his keys, heading for the door.

“I’d tell you to enjoy yourselves, but…” Sam laughed uncertainly, shaking his head and darting shy looks between Dean and Castiel “this is kinda awkward…”

“You wanna switch after all?” Dean prompted and Castiel froze at the offer even though she knew that Sam would also qualify. But Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Okay, take care, Sammy.” Dean opened the door and nodded at Castiel to follow him.

“Uhm… good luck,” Sam mumbled as Castiel passed him and she turned her head towards him.

“Thank you, Sam,” she replied politely, then she was out of the door.

Dean waited at his car’s passenger side’s door, which he opened, apparently for her.

“Come on in then,” he said and Castiel hesitated only a moment before she walked over to the car, slipping in as gracefully as possible. Dean closed the door again and the sound of metal and the loud snapping of the door slamming shut were grating on Castiel’s nerves.

“Where are we going?” Castiel asked when Dean slipped into the seat and ignited the motor.

“We’re going on a date.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Esmerod was a very quick Beta and it's not really a lenghty chapter, so this is up a bit earlier!
> 
> Dean takes Castiel on a date, but things aren't going as planned.

Castiel understood that humans had certain courtship patterns they liked to follow, that there were things to be done before mating could be initiated. She had just assumed that they would be redundant for her seeing as she was not a woman, not even a human, and did not need coaxing or flatteries.

Dean did not understand any of this, or if he understood – and his restless side-way glances hinted at it – then he chose to ignore it. Because _he_ was human and he did not want her to simply submit to God’s plan.

Walking through this small city just as the afternoon dimmed out into early evening was a peculiar experience. She had rarely taken the time to move about; she was used to sit and wait and contemplate. Dean was walking besides her, close, his palm at times touching just below her shoulder blades to maneuver her into a certain direction. He made her turn to windows showcasing their goods on which Castiel only had a very vague opinion.

“What about that one?” Dean wondered and Castiel found herself inside a jewelry store. There were other people inside, mostly women and she felt that Dean was ill at ease, but she suspected that the many young women weren’t the reason. She looked at the ring he was holding up to her; it was a thin band of silver with tiny blue tinted glass beads set into the lower half of the ring.

“What about it?” Castiel asked him, unable to give an answer to an unclear question and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Do you like it?” Castiel narrowed her eyes for a moment, puzzled, then she turned to the ring again.

“It is pleasant to look at,” she offered, even though she did not really have any experience in judging jewelry. Dean nodded and took it to the cashier. When they were out of the store, Dean turned towards her and demanded for her hand.

“Humans have a tendency to seal certain promises with rings,” Dean explained when she just blinked at him, her hand in his.

“You have not promised me anything,” she observed and Dean uttered a defeated sigh, giving her hand a squeeze. “I apologize for causing you irritation, but I do not understand.” Dean’s thumb brushed over the back of her hand, rubbing in circles that held no meaning but brought comfort.

“I’ll take care of you,” he said after a while and slipped the ring over her left hand’s ring finger. She studied it curiously; it fit well but a sudden surge of fear and resistance shot through her and she knew that those weren’t her feelings.

_No, don’t. That’s not what I – This is not – please – Castiel!_

Castiel tried to soothe the voice vibrating through her Grace, tried to wrap her arms around the soul, share her worries and her fears. _This has to be done. This is an honor. This is right._

“Earth to Cas?” Dean called and Castiel looked up into his face. He was worried, anxious for a reaction that went beyond stunned silence.

“Thank you. I appreciate your promise,” she told him, ducking her head again when she saw the expectant and hopeful expression in his eyes. She could not translate it properly, it did not add up and it made no sense. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and turned her slightly towards him. She could feel the steady heart-beat and her vessel echoed it, once, twice, not enough to warm the lentic blood, but quite enough to cause a conflict between a gentle want for more and a desperate desire to get away.

She let him lead her down the street, his hand constantly on her shoulder, as if he were afraid she’d stray if he let her out of his sight. Castiel wondered what she had become in his eyes, from where she’d fallen and where she now stood in his forever skeptical world-view.

She wanted to remind him that she was an angel, but no angel had ever done what she was about to do, so she wasn’t sure what this turned her into. She still felt her Grace pushing against the tight confines of her vessel, curling around and around the human soul deep in its core. Her essence was still the same, but she felt… Diminished.

Dean ushered her into a restaurant, certainly the one Sam had mentioned, and they were led to a table for two. There was a candle on top of it, burning despite the bright light coming from the lamps on the ceiling. Dean asked her to get out of her coat and she did reluctantly, folding it up and hanging it over the back of the chair just like Dean did.

“Order anything you like,” Dean told her over his menu and Castiel cautiously lifted her own. With a glance she had read and memorized every word on it, but was unsure what to do with the knowledge. Dean raised an eyebrow when he registered her silence and laughed. “What? Don’t tell me there is nothing you want.”

“I do not require sustenance,” she informed him and Dean’s face fell for a moment before he composed himself.

“Cas, come on. Food is awesome!” he told her and leant closer to be able to talk to her at a whisper. It was not necessary, she would always hear him if he talked to her, no matter how far away, but she leant in too. “And I don’t know about angel babies, but human babies do need food.”

“I am not yet with child,” she told him severely, he couldn’t possibly have missed that. Dean reacted with a short breathy laugh and shook his head. She did not understand why he was laughing, nothing about the situation was comical.

“Okay… Compromise. I order a pizza and we share, okay?” Castiel wanted to remind him that it really was not necessary and that while his social behavior was commendable, she did not _want_ to eat. But Dean put his hand over the one she kept flat on the table and brushed his fingers over the ring.

“I understand,” she replied after a while, eyes focused on his fingers, and Dean grinned at her. He was trying to take care of her, this was his promise and she had accepted it. So she steeled herself against the shame of ingesting food, of giving this dormant body something that had the potential to wake it.

“So, Cas, is there anything else you’d like to do?” Dean wondered while they waited for Dean’s order to arrive. Castiel tilted her head to the side and raised her eyebrows at Dean.

“I was under the impression that you would impregnate me after dinner,” she stated and watched as Dean almost choked on the olive he was eating.

“Jesus Christ, Cas! Don’t talk like that! We’re on a date, we’re not talking about… about _work_ right now!” he hissed and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. Castiel looked at him in wonder.

“I do not understand the concept of this date we are on…”

“A date, Cas, is when two people meet and do things together,” Dean told her with an eye-roll but she could see that he was still recovering from her statement.

“We have done so many times before,” Castiel reminded him and Dean shook his head with a low groan. “Is this different because there is sexual activity involved?”

“This is different because we’re not hunting or saving the world or getting our asses kicked! We’re here because I want to spend time with you and talk to you,” he said with a frustrated sigh and Castiel could read him well enough to feel a gentle pang of compassion and understanding.

“I apologize. I am not very good at this,” she said and Dean’s expression shifted to a small smile, shaking his head.

“Actually, I’m not that good at it either,” Dean confessed, picking at the olives in the little glass jar next to a basket of bread. “Usually I just pick up girls, exchange a bit of flattery, some fabricated back story… I’m not exactly the dating type…”

“Then why are you so insistent on doing this with me? I don’t require the attention,” she told him cautiously and Dean sighed silently, shaking his head at her.

“Cas… This is an absolutely absurd situation – even for me!” he started to explain and she listened attentively. “I don’t know what we’ll be, parents or whatever, but I’m not going to treat you like a tool to avert the Apocalypse.” Castiel looked at him and she knew that the words were meant to encourage her, to praise her because she was better than a tool, but for some reason the only sentiment she felt was a hot tension taking hold of her chest. Anger. She was angry.

“But you have,” she said silently before she could check herself. Dean lifted his head to look at her in surprise. She shouldn’t talk, nothing good would come out of this conversation. She clenched her jaw before leaning forwards, the blue scarf around her neck touching the surface of the table. “You expect me to save you. You expect me to turn my back on my orders and you expect me to find a different solution. I did and this is it.” Dean opened his mouth, but was interrupted by the waitress bringing them their order. She flashed both a charming smile, which Dean tried to mirror, and when she turned her back the tension had not eased up. Dean looked at Castiel with a lack of words, but then he slowly reached out to silently cut the pizza. He looked… humbled, unhappy and this realization stripped the anger off Castiel, leaving only a feeling of regret. “I’m sorry…”

“No,” Dean said, his face tense and his words a bit choked. He put one slice of pizza on Castiel’s plate, before serving himself. “You’re right.” He clenched and unclenched his hands next to his plate as if unsure how to proceed, his eyes focused unseeingly on the pizza. Castiel looked at him, could sense the emotions fighting for dominance within him. He was only trying to make this bearable and Castiel understood that this was as difficult for him as it was for her. Even though he was not a “dating type” he did put in the effort to go on a date with her. Because this was a special situation. Because in some way she might be as special to him as he was to her.

“It’s just…,” he started after a while and finally reached for the piece of pizza. Castiel saw him lift it up with his fingers instead of using the cutlery lying next to the plate, but he didn’t eat. _This is not supposed to happen. Everything’s all wrong. I care. I want to make this right. You mean more to me than that._ “I don’t know…” Castiel didn’t reply, unsure what to do with the unspoken confession she had heard. It had been such a strong thought that she could not have helped feeling it.

“Why…?” she asked and Dean looked at her, oil dripping down his fingers.

“Why what?” he asked and licked the oil off his fingers, but he didn’t take a bite.

“Why do you care about me?” Dean widened his eyes, but then he put the slice down, apparently unable to eat. When he started frowning she lowered her head slightly. “I can read your sentiments even if they are unspoken, Dean… Especially as they seem to be so strong and you so close to actually articulating them verbally…”

“You shouldn’t read minds, Cas. That’s impolite,” he told her dryly and she lifted her chin defiantly.

“As I told you, I am-“ Dean shook his head, waving her off with a small grin. Castiel disliked being brushed off like that, the gesture patronizing and silencing.

“Nah, it’s cool,” he told her and she looked at him in puzzlement. “Yes… I care. Damn, Cas, I wouldn’t take you on a date if I didn’t care.”

“I… believe I fail to understand your meaning…,” she confessed and he grinned at her now, with a new confidence where before there had only been anxiety and tension.

“When I told you I didn’t want you to be a tool for me, I actually meant it. We’ve both been dicks to each other… But I’m actually interested in you. I just want to know more about you.” Castiel tilted her head and Dean gestured towards the slice of pizza. “Eat, Cas.” Castiel frowned, then she looked down at the pizza. Picking it up like Dean, she sniffed it, then she guided it to her lips. Its temperature was too hot, but she still chewed, feeling the insides of her mouth burn, then heal.

“Cas! If it’s hot, blow air on it!” Dean hissed and Castiel raised her eyes to look at him. He demonstrated before biting down on the pizza. He chewed, his tongue darting out between his lips to lick at the crumbs and oil. “See?” Castiel observed, finding little joy in watching him ingest the food, but she still nibbled at the slice of pizza and Dean was pleased. She didn’t have to look at him to notice.

“Good?” Dean asked and she glanced at him a bit helplessly, because she didn’t know if it was good or not. Tasting and feeling its consistency as she chewed was interesting, but the feeling of the partly chewed bits sliding down her vessel’s throat filled her with unease. Dean couldn’t possibly know about that and he smiled at her eating the food almost with an air of pride. Castiel reminded herself how protective he was even about his choices of nourishment. He would probably treat any negative comments about this pizza as a personal affront.

“So, Cas,” he started again, not commenting upon the fact that Castiel seemed to take the pizza apart almost atom by atom while he ate his third slice. “Tell me something about yourself.”

“What?” she asked, brows drawn together in confusion, but glad for the distraction.

“Well, you’re supposed to get to know the person you date. Tell me something about you I don’t know yet.” Castiel thought about that for a second, but then she pressed her lips into a thin line.

“That would take too long. There are many things you don’t know about me,” she told him and Dean rolled his eyes at her. Apparently that had not been the answer he had been looking for.

“I _know_ , Cas. But you gotta start somewhere. All I actually know about you is that you are an angel of the lord and that you got me out of hell. And you’re kinda nice considering that your boss and the rest of your garrison seem to be dicks.” Castiel cringed at that, but then she put the half eaten slice of pizza back on her plate.

“This is a very… basic summary,” she said uncertainly and Dean laughed.

“So, what did you do? What’s your job?” Castiel looked at him, perplexed by the question.

“My job?” Dean shoved some more pizza into his mouth and Castiel refrained from commenting on how his eating habits could impact his health. And that shoving food into his mouth didn’t look all too endearing.

“Well,” Dean said with a shrug, “humans generally believe that angels are responsible for certain things...” Castiel was still confused by his question, but she tried to indulge him.

“I am the Angel of Thursday, if that is what you’re asking about,” she told him and clearly Dean was surprised by her answer. “But my interaction with the mortal plane has always been somewhat limited.”

“Yeah, judged by your people skills that hardly comes as a surprise,” Dean said jokingly. “How long have you been around?” At Castiel’s uncomprehending stare he continued: “Alive… I know you don’t ask a lady her age, but I’m curious.”

“I’m no lady,” Castiel reminded him, “I have been created long before humanity… The first time I was to earth life was just starting to crawl out of the waters.” Dean was silent, looking at her with wide eyes. “This makes you uncomfortable…”

“Uh, yes… Just a bit…,” Dean agreed, but then he shrugged. “That’s one hell of an age gap.”

“If it consoles you, I am still considered young by the Host…,” Castiel told him but only earned herself an amused snort. Dean continued eating his pizza in silence, but the questions he wanted to ask flickered over his face. Seeing as it seemed to be rude to answer unasked questions, Castiel also kept to silence. It suited her well, even though Dean noticed her not eating.

“Are there things you like to do? Hobbies of any kind?” he asked after a while of Castiel picking the pizza apart with her fingers, eating it layer for layer.

“I observe humans. I fight. I sing,” Castiel said and Dean looked at her with his eyelids lowered. Castiel still had difficulties seeing any difference at all between the things she had to do and the things she liked to do. For an angel there should not be a distinction at all. “I enjoyed sitting in the park with you. And… I always took pleasure in singing and studying…”

“Maybe we should have hooked you up with Sam then… You would have had a super nerd baby.” There it was again, a wave of emotion that made Castiel tense up and she noticed that Dean too wasn’t all too thrilled with the idea.

“You are very protective,” Castiel told him, “and you did not want Sam to go through this… I understand and I am glad for your choice. Sam seems to fear me…” Dean chuckled at that and Castiel tilted her head to the side. “What?”

“Well, you guys weren’t that nice to him. He thinks Heaven wants to strike him down with lightning… And he was always the one to believe in angels… Poor Sammy.” Castiel frowned.

“Heaven doesn’t use lightning to…,” she saw his eyebrow rise and stopped mid-sentence to reconsider. “When we meet again, I will apologize,” she told him and saw a flicker of surprise and relief pass over Dean’s face, but it was quickly gone and replaced by a smirk. She hesitated, the noise of the restaurant the only diversion, but then straightened her shoulders.

“What do you enjoy doing?” A half-chewed piece of pizza fell gracelessly out of Dean’s open mouth. He blinked at her, genuinely surprised by the question. He shut his mouth and wiped it with the back of his hand.

“Why? Don’t you know everything about me?” Castiel lowered her head just slightly, her intent stare never leaving his face. Hadn’t that been the right question? Wasn’t that what Dean had said people coming together for a date were supposed to ask?

“I assume that this is irrelevant. I know you, but I do not understand you well. I do not know what things you deem important beside your mission.” Dean still stared at her, but then he leant back in his seat. He seemed to contemplate her answer and judged by how he pursed his lips, looking upwards, he found no fault in it. He turned in his seat and waved a waitress over.

“Can we get some pie?” She nodded and cleared their table before she left with the same cheerful smile. Castiel wondered why she was smiling, seeing as she was not happy. Dean cleared his throat and Castiel turned her eyes back to him.

“Well, I like pie. And my car. I enjoy driving around, listening to my music. I also like working on my baby.” At Castiel’s confused expression he clarified: “my car. One thing you must know if you’re sticking around? Baby always comes first.”

“Doesn’t Sam always come first?” she wondered and Dean had to laugh.

“Come on Cas, no spying on my thoughts, okay? Just take what I tell you and be fine with that. Usually dates cannot read minds.”

“Which is why you can lie to them,” Castiel added to that, nodding to herself, and Dean continued laughing. “But I don’t understand how any of the women that interest you would feel charmed to know that you place higher value in a machine than in them…”

“That’s to ease up the tension. And a guy and his car? That’s just how things are, women accept that as manly.” Castiel didn’t know what to make of this explanation, so she just stored it away for further reference and part of Dean’s idiosyncrasies. He received his pie and with a very pleased expression, he cut his fork into the crust. He shoveled part of the pie unto the fork and tried it. The baked good seemed to pass his examination and he got more onto the fork to hold out to Castiel. She regarded it dubiously and only moved when prompted with “open your mouth, Cas.” She did and Dean guided the fork past her lips and she closed them before Dean pulled the fork out again. The pie was still warm and she felt the different textures of dough and plum on her tongue as well as the flavors.

“Cas, just swallow,” Dean told her and she did. “And?” Castiel licked her lips, catching sugar and crumbs.

“Sweet.”

“You like sweet things?” Castiel nodded and eyed the pie. Dean laughed and handed her the second fork. “Well, they do say angels like honey and milk.”

“Do we?” Castiel wondered, carefully sticking the fork into the pie, “milk and honey do not exist in Heaven.” She guided it to her mouth and tasted the sticky sweetness again. Something in her had been stirred by the sweetness, some kind of joy that was stronger than her disgust at being made to eat. She was aware that Dean was watching her eat, but he seemed perfectly pleased and the constant warmth that radiated from him was soothing. Her vessel’s heart beat slowly, very slowly and she opened her mouth to draw in a breath.

“Let’s find out tomorrow morning, when we have breakfast,” Dean suggested and they shared the pie before Dean called the waitress again to pay. Castiel was aware of the food in her vessel’s stomach – heavy and hot and it felt immobilizing, pressing her down to her chair. Dean paid and he got up from the table, looking down at her. There was a cloud of half-formulated thoughts circling around him and they all amounted to the same thing: they were going to have sex. The contents in her stomach suddenly moved as if her wings had given out in mid-flight and Dean widened his eyes when she hunched over slightly, making a choked noise. But with a thought her Grace had burned everything, the food, the water, the taste. Her body was cold again and she closed her mouth silently, without inhaling. Dean’s hand was on her shoulder, his palm sweaty and greasy.

“You alright? For a second I thought you were going to throw everything back up on the plate,” he said silently and Castiel straightened. “Maybe that was too much for someone who doesn’t eat.” Castiel didn’t answer and Dean pulled her up on her feet, helping her into her coat. He put his hand on her back again and guided her outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of this story let's assume vessels are in some sort of stasis while an angel inhabits them - they don't age, they don't breathe, etc. They can allow the body to work, but for Castiel it's less a controlled allowing but a side-effect of her duty, which is why she dislikes it at first.
> 
> (p.s. why does AO3 add the first chapter notes after these notes? Sorry about that!)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course it takes me three chapters to get to the part that actually contains sex. 
> 
> Thanks again to my beta Esmerod!

Night had fallen and lights illuminated the streets. The temperature had dropped but Castiel barely registered it even though Dean drew up his shoulders against the cold wind hitting his exposed neck. The hunter’s hand slipped down, past her shoulder blades, along her spine until it moved to her side, curling around her waist. He was solid warmth against her side, across her back and pooling under his fingers. She still held on tightly to her Grace, trying to prevent her vessel from going back to that slightly warmed state, but as Dean’s fingers moved up and down her waist absently, some of the control slipped through her fingers. She couldn’t do this if she didn’t allow a closer connection to her vessel and Dean’s touches and the steady pulse of his heartbeat were in their own way rather comforting. 

“Are you cold?” Dean wondered, the fabric of her coat creasing under a strengthened pressure of his fingers.

“My vessel’s temperature is below average right now,” she informed him and Dean looked at her with worry. He fleetingly thought about buying her a winter coat or offering his jacket, but before Dean could suggest either Castiel continued: “I do not feel uncomfortable if that is what you were asking about.” Dean looked unconvinced and he pulled her a bit closer and Castiel wanted to tell him that this made walking a bit difficult, but he released her soon after.

“We should warm your body up then,” he told her and his palm slipped from her side, only to travel over her lower back and to the other side of her body, where he took her hand into his. His hand was warm and slightly sweaty. She felt his nervousness pressing into her, felt it tingling up her arms and down her chest, pooling uncomfortably in her stomach, shifting with every step she took. She recalled the moments before they breeched hell, she tried to remember nervousness then but she couldn’t. She had only known calm and cold determination and an anticipation of fight and purpose. She should feel the same now, but she couldn’t. There was still faith, still the surety that this task was monumental and that in a whole she would not fail if what she did was serve God, but beyond this, there was a dark mass of intangible feeling, part hers, part Dean’s.

They were both afraid.

Castiel was back to a slow and slightly irregular heartbeat and sluggish blood flow by the time the automatic glass doors of a hotel opened up for them. Dean left Castiel in the middle of the entrance hall with a gentle squeeze to her upper arm. While he was at the reception she took a moment to assess the location: it was not the kind of abode the Winchesters usually chose for themselves. The floor was pale apricot colored marble, with pillars carrying a high ceiling and a huge golden chandelier sending glittering lights over the leather armchairs neatly arranged towards a wall hung with splendid artwork. She was still studying the architecture - a distraction from the actual task in order to ease some of her anxiety, she did know that - when Dean returned to her side.

“You got to hand it to him. Sam is well-prepared,” Dean commented and Castiel raised her eyebrows questioningly. He placed his hand on the small of her back again and guided her to the lifts. She noticed that there was a bag slung over his shoulder that had not been there before. Dean spotted her inquiring look and nodded his head towards the bag. “Got a change of clothes… Sam left it at the reception for us,” he told her but she didn’t quite manage to grasp why this was relevant.

The lift stopped and the doors opened into a bright corridor. Dean checked the number on the card as if he had not nervously memorized it the first time his eyes had fallen on the keycard. Castiel could see the number 401 inside of his head and then on the door when Dean had guided her over the rich green carpet and past many other doors made of dark wood with golden numbers on them.

Castiel had no frame of reference for four star hotels, but Dean made a pleased sound when he switched on the light. Castiel saw that it was actually one big room, with an open door to the entrance’s left revealing a rather spacy bathroom. Dean closed the door behind her and the lock clicking was an uncomfortably loud sound in the silence of the room. Castiel followed him past the smaller entrance to where the room opened up to the bedroom. The wall opposite them was made up of tall windows, white curtains drawn but for a crack that allowed them to see over a smallish park in the back of the hotel, framed by other buildings. There were two armchairs arranged around a table and a TV hung on the wall opposite the main component of the room; the bed. Dean put the bag on the table and his nervousness rose. She didn’t want to move, not back towards the pressure of his expectations, hopes, fears and not towards the bed even though she picked up on his wishes to lie with her in what he assumed to be soft, clean smelling covers. She felt anxiety bubble up in her stomach until her body prickled with a need to just fly and flee the unfamiliar sensations.

But then Dean was there, his hand gently reaching for hers, fingers brushing against fingers, against her knuckles, slipping into her palm. She closed her eyes, not yet turning even though he drew her hand towards him, tugging at the joint of her shoulder, and allowed herself a shuddering breath. No words, but Castiel could hear with more than her vessel’s ear. The rapid thrum of his heartbeat vibrating through her arm, the reassurance whispered by the pull against her fingers and the warmth of his chest against her back. The promise of gentleness she did not require when his free hand brushed her hair out of her neck to touch his lips to her borrowed skin. Castiel assumed that it did not qualify as a kiss and mused that reproduction did not need all these decorative gestures of affection. She was not able to deny though how welcome they were in a situation that was so far removed from what she knew and was comfortable with. Dean was anchoring her into her vessel, firmly, his touches like nails fixing her to lungs and a heart and a brain. To sensations, to emotions, to hormones. It was necessary, she knew; she needed to be as closely folded up in her vessel as possible, linking her own essence with the biology of her borrowed body. She was terrified that she would not be able to disentangle herself from the flesh and blood when the mission was completed.

Dean pulled the coat off her shoulders, tossing it on the floor with little care, reaching around her to put his hands on her stomach, his breath ruffling her hair. Castiel waited for the next step towards nakedness, but the only thing he did was hold her close, forehead now resting on her shoulder. She would need to rise up of the vessel’s confines in order to catch his thoughts now, but he spoke before she needed to think more about it:

“Damn, Cas… I don’t know what I’m doing…” She was surprised to hear that and shifted slightly to be able to look at him over her shoulder. He was forced to lift his head and his expression was pained. “On top of all the shit I’ve been responsible for I now need to disgrace an angel?” His choice of words made her breath hitch and body tense.

_Disgrace_.

The word was like poison, closing around her heart, blocking her lungs. She wondered if that was how he saw her now. He had never respected her for what she was, her Divinity deliberately wasted on him. But she still held Grace, she was still an angel. But afterwards? What would she be when he had stripped her of the layer of Grace he still saw her wrapped in?

“You are doing God’s work,” she tried to reassure him with the same reasoning that she’d tried to soothe her own fear with. This was what God wanted, this was his Grace bestowed on her. She was still an Angel, she was still divine. It wasn’t hard to see that it didn’t help Dean one bit. She stirred again, managing to turn around to look up at him. “Dean.” He lifted his hands, holding them up disarmingly – or helplessly? -  in front of him, palms facing her, before he averted his eyes and dropped them in defeat.

“It’s just wrong… This is not how things are supposed to go.” He turned his body away from her, just enough to avoid her eyes without having to try too hard, covering his mouth with his palm, before drawing his hand through his hair.

“I know Heaven has required a lot of you…,” Castiel started, unsure how to proceed, but Dean cut her off with a humorless laugh before he turned back towards her.

“Yeah right… but this is not about me! Not primarily in any case,” he told her, his tone gentler than she would have expected. He reached out for her hand again and she held it out to meet him in the middle. He took her hand in his, lifting it to kiss her fingers and the ring caught the light, glittering. “You don’t want this, for you it’s just another mission…” Castiel was silent to that, the empty echoes of _“just like me”_ reverberating inside of her, which left Dean with enough time to spill more of his anxieties. “And we have no idea what is going to happen, if it even works.”

“It will work… And, Dean, I am not doing this because it was an order… God would not have whispered to me if I had not chosen to look for alternatives. You wanted me to help save humanity and I decided to help…”

“But…”

“Don’t disregard the choice I made, Dean,” she told him sharply and Dean closed his mouth in bashful silence. “I am not human, Dean… I don’t know how things _should_ proceed...,” she told him and Dean’s face softened, “As to what I want…” She lowered her head, but didn’t break the eye contact. “Being confined in a vessel is disquieting, too much like a Fall,” Castiel continued to confess. “I am… fearful…” She gave his fingers a squeeze and Dean reacted by pulling her close, chest to chest and her cheek pressing against his neck.

“Okay… Okay,” he whispered, “that’s alright, Cas. We’ll manage, we always have.” He withdrew and smiled down at her. “Just… slow. Okay? Let’s take this slow… And if you don’t like something I’m doing to you, tell me. Same if you like something. Can you do that?” Castiel was slightly confused, but she nodded. Dean nodded as well, then he let go of her, just to put one of his hands in her neck and the other in the small of her back. She widened her eyes, her heart quickening as Dean looked at her with a serious and searching expression. But then he seemed to make up his mind and closed his eyes, leaning down to press his lips against hers.

It was not much different than any other touch, just a quick press of lips against lips and Dean drew back to study her. Castiel was still thinking, but Dean lightly moved his fingertips over the nape of her neck, scratching the short but soft hair there. He was waiting for an assessment and she searched his expression. It was difficult to read him with just human senses she had not yet learnt to master, but she lowered her eyes to his lips. They parted, his tongue darting out to wet them with saliva, then he put more pressure to her neck. And his lips covered hers again, still gentle, but longer now.

“Relax,” he whispered against her mouth and Castiel found the movement (slightly wet and quite soft) not unpleasant. She tried to loosen her own lips, opening them just slightly and he moved against her, slowly, angling his head gently. They were kissing, Castiel mused, an angel kissing a human. Like he had kissed Anna before she had her Grace restored to her.

Anna. Graceless. Human. Fallen.

She wanted to close her lips again in sudden tension, but managed to bite Dean’s lower lip in the process. He gave a slight start, but other than drawing back and Castiel being able to apologize, he made a humming sound of approval, and Castiel felt the tip of his tongue tracing the shape or her upper lip. He licked, tasted, nibbled as if she was something to be savored and Castiel didn’t know what to do but keep her mouth open for him and move her tongue out of the way when he continued exploring. She wondered what taste he encountered, what an angel could taste like. He was pizza, pie and something mint flavored. Maybe chewing gum, maybe tooth paste. She didn’t find the mix of flavors particularly pleasing as it reminded her of her own brush with human eating habits, but she was not displeased with his lips, his tongue, his saliva. She assumed that she might have found it debasing or dirty (certainly Uriel would have had and she could think of more that would too), but was relieved when her regards of humans was not sullied by feeling one of them this close. At least not yet.

His hands shifted gently, loosening the scarf around her neck and in a silky flutter it fell to the floor. Castiel was not quite sure if what they were doing was still kissing, seeing as it involved less lips and an augmented amount of tongue and saliva and breathing into each other’s mouth, but Dean was very focused on it. She didn’t know what to do with her hands when he started opening the buttons of her blazer, slipping it off, before getting to the next layer of her clothes. Was she expected to help? Was she supposed to reciprocate? She raised her arms, but their movement got stopped by Dean pushing the white fabric of her blouse down her shoulders and then her lower arms bumped into his.

He laughed into her mouth, a wet sound followed by a light close-mouthed kiss to her still parted lips. There was saliva threatening to drip down the corner of her mouth and she felt a small twinge of embarrassment at the prospect, so she licked it away, brushing Dean’s chin at the process. His stubble lightly scratched her tongue and she pressed her lips together.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got this,” Dean said and continued undressing her. Castiel felt like a doll, a living but unresponsive statue. It made her nervous, especially as she no longer had Dean’s kissing to focus on. Just his eyes on her borrowed body and while angels did not feel shame or modesty she did feel insecure on behalf of her host under the scrutiny of Dean’s eyes and hands.

Dean opened the zipper of her skirt and the fabric dropped down to pool around her ankles. Dean tugged his fingers under the waistband of her stockings and pulled it down over her pelvis and behind before he made her sit on the bed. She stiffened at the prospect of being so close to copulation, but he put his hands on her shoulders and urged her to sit on the bed gently. He kneeled down in front of her, pulling the stockings off her legs. Dean didn’t say anything, he merely brushed his warm and slightly sweaty palm over her legs and Castiel looked down at the unfamiliar state of her vessel. She had watched her host for some time, she had seen her in various states of undress (and various situations of life) but she had not added or taken off any of the items of clothing before. Today was the first time she had taken off her coat and now, not three hours later, she had Dean kneeling between her naked legs. Dean seemed nervous and rubbed her feet and her ankles, before his hands slipped up her shins, to her knees and he straightened, hands firm on her thighs. He looked at her and she studied him.

“You are hesitating,” Castiel stated, when the only movement from him was his eyes darting over her face and her underwear and his fingers digging into her flesh. Dean was quick to avert his eyes, but then he leant in and she felt his nose touch just where her sternum ended, before he kissed and then tasted the skin over her navel.

“It’s just… the lingerie took me by surprise,” he said and Castiel looked down, seeing the rise of averagely sized breasts, cupped in a low cut, mint colored bra, white lace framing the top.

“I assumed that women of this century wear these…” Dean nodded “Then why were you surprised?” Dean refrained from giving a direct answer and busied himself kissing and licking her skin before he drew slightly closer to move his hands to her hips, fingers slipping under the fabric of her panties for a second before they travelled up to her back. He found the plastic catch of the bra, but didn’t proceed to open it. He moved his head back, looking up at her.

“Nothing particular… They’re just a tad too sexy for the office lady look you had going… And… I just…” He shook his head. “I know that you’re inside some poor girl… I don’t know anything about demon or angel possession first hand, but I’m not too sure that she’s on board with what I’m about to do with you.”

“This is considerate of you, Dean,” Castiel told him, but for once the irony of the situation was not lost on her (a fact which disquieted her more than she was willing to admit). He was sitting between her legs, about to engage in sexual activities, worried about Castiel not wanting this (and to some extend she didn’t) and just now recalled her vessel? She was unsure what to tell him, she didn’t want to give him another reason to feel guilty and neither did she want him to stop (she did want him to stop, but if he refused her now then she would need to seek out Sam, travel back in time or abandon her mission altogether). So a portion of truth would be best she assumed.

“She has voiced resistance when she became aware of my actions, but I have tried my best to soothe her and shield her from the experience,” she told him and Dean sat up straight, hands abandoning the slight up and down movement on her back, but the bra had still come undone and the weight of her breasts tugged uncomfortably on the straps, flesh peeking out underneath the cups as they slipped upwards.

“She is aware in there?” Dean asked, his eyes unsure and his hands hovering above her thighs.

“Not right now,” Castiel told him and it wasn’t a lie. Dean seemed to be thinking something over, worrying his lower lip with his teeth before he came to a hesitating conclusion.

“Maybe we should let her have a clearer say in this. Wake her up or so,” he offered, but he sounded doubtful. Castiel shook her head.

“That would not be a good idea,” she told him and he frowned in an unvoiced request to know why. “If I relinquish her body then she would probably resist me going back into her. And if I am not within her, then we cannot procreate and if you were to impregnate her instead of me within her then the child would be nothing but a mere human.”

“Man, Cas! You’re using her body to-“ Dean protested loudly, standing up, but Castiel reached out her hand, grabbing his wrist to stop him.

“To do God’s work,” she insisted sternly, her voice low and making the windows vibrate slightly. “Jamie Novak understands.” Reluctantly and Castiel could feel her crying softly, even in her state of unawareness. Dean held her gaze, searching and for a moment Castiel thought he’d reject her, but then he let his head drop in defeat.

“Then tell… Jamie… that I’m sorry,” he said and Castiel slowly nodded. Dean took a moment to compose himself, wiping his palm over his face and down his neck, while the other squeezed Castiel’s hand. “Shit, this is all kinds of fucked up.”

“I understand that this is difficult for you,” Castiel tried to reassure him and was a bit surprised at herself that she pulled at his hand until his comforting warmth was back with him standing between her legs and his free hand on top of her shoulder.

“No… Cas…,” he started and with a sigh he kneeled back down, letting go of her hand to cup her cheeks. “I don’t think you understand.” Without adding anything  he leant forwards to capture her lips again, chaste at first, then quick kisses before pushing her mouth open with his and slipping his tongue over her lips. And he was right. Castiel did not understand. She felt that he was tense and that he was urgent and almost desperate. He did no longer stop, no longer idle, shaking off his jacket and shirt before his hands were back on her hips. He touched and tasted with a sense of urgency and want- Castiel’s breath stopped for a moment, before she released it as a puff against Dean’s wet lips.

“You want this…” It was an observation, not a question, even though the revelation surprised Castiel.

“Shit… Yes,” he hissed and rested his forehead against her shoulder. He moved his hands downwards and she heard the zipper of his jeans and the rustling of fabric and the heat of exposed skin. “I’m almost disgusting myself, but yes I want this.”

“Don’t be,” Castiel told him gently. “It does come as a surprise to find your attraction focused on me, but it is nothing you should be ashamed of. Especially not under these circumstances.”

“The circumstances don’t make it any easier. I had no time to sort through my thoughts. And now it’s world shattering on more than one level.” Castiel did not grasp the full meaning behind his words, but she nodded. “I hate God’s sense of humor.”

“Dean…,” Castiel said when the hunter moved away enough to get out of his clothes and pulled her bra off. “I don’t like this. Stop rushing.” Dean stopped dead in his tracks even though he was about to push her down into the covers. She looked up at him seriously and he blushed, but nodded. “I am not going anywhere.” Dean seemed to sober up and wiped the skin under his eyes, shaking his head more at himself than at her, but then he nodded.

“I’m not sure…”

“You can come back and kiss me…,” she suggested and Dean had to laugh at that, taking Castiel by surprise. “Why are you laughing?”

“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head but he looked at her with affection and she was glad for it. Glad to see some of the angelic love she had for him reflected back at her, even though the human interpretation of love was different. Fragmented, messy, burning hot and chillingly cold. She had no other choice but begin to try to feel them too, even though she found they paled in comparison to what she felt out of her host’s confines. Dean, naked now, was not something she had not seen before, but she still felt pleasure watching him. He walked away from the bed and pulled open the zipper of Sam’s bag. He snorted once, but then he returned with some kind of tube which resembled the container of toothpaste.

“It’s kind of strange that Sammy’s so involved in this whole impregnating thing,” he said and Castiel looked at him in wonder. “Though I don’t think we need condoms at this point.”

“I would advise against it…,” Castiel told him dryly and Dean snorted once again. “I do think Sam should be closely involved though, maybe not in the process of impregnation, but afterwards.”

“Bah,” Dean said, shuddering comically, then he stepped back to the bed and nodded towards the bed with a suddenly childlike shyness. “Uhm… You best get comfortable…” He put the tube on the nightstand and Castiel moved towards the middle of the bed, lying down with her hands close to her body, watching Dean.

“I think I am comfortable,” she informed him, shifting slightly until she had sunken a bit further into covers and cushions. “I am comfortable,” she reaffirmed. Dean looked at her, then his hand went to the light switches over the night table.

“Light? On? Off?” He switched it off and on again.

“Off,” Castiel said, liking the soft glow that came through the window better than the bright light. The light went off again, but she could still see Dean. He climbed onto the bed until he was half lying next to her, bending his upper body over hers.

“Remember… Just tell me if you don’t like anything I’m doing…” Castiel’s eyes were wide by now and she breathed quickly through her nose, but she nodded. This sudden nervousness again, this fear and doubt were disquieting, but Dean bent down and gently, chastely kissed her forehead, then her cheeks before he kissed her mouth. “Okay.” He moved again, pulling off her bra, then reaching down to take off her panties. He lingered, watching her, before he moved his fingers to touch experimentally.

“You’re… not really enjoying this, are you?” he asked, something like disappointment coloring his voice and Castiel frowned. “You don’t seem to be aroused… I mean…”

“I apologize, but…,” she started but Dean bent down to kiss her.

“Don’t worry… I’ll try… And we’ve got enough lube to make it comfortable…” Castiel eyed the tube on the nightstand and then she nodded. “Spread your legs?” Castiel looked back at Dean and did what he said and he knelt between them, before lowering his own body to cover hers, propping himself up on one arm, the other going under Castiel, fingers closing over the back of her neck gently. A flicker of various sensations went through Castiel then. She could feel the hairs on his legs where his touched hers, she could feel the tickling of his fingertips, his palm pushing her upwards slightly and she arched her back so his lips could find her collarbone. There were the puffs of breath almost cool on her skin where he had tasted her, there were the light kisses and the gentle bites, the scratch of stubble and the tickle of his hair. And the heat between her legs. This was not penetration, she mused, because his erection continued brushing over her skin as he moved. It felt… weird. Something in her stomach and a slight ache building, fluidly travelling down to where he would brush over her but not into her and up to pool in her chest. His lips were on her breasts and the heat was crawling under her rips and up her neck and into her cheeks.

“Dean…”

“What?” he asked promptly, stopping all movement. She breathed heavily a few times, before her pulse seemed to settle again and Dean waited, an immobile body of warm lines and weight and shadowed features. Castiel made a slightly confused sound, but whatever she had felt, it had dulled somewhat, her breathing more regular now. “You’re okay?”

“Yes.” Dean nodded and licked a line down her sternum, between her breasts and he arched his back slightly, getting closer, his erection shifting over her again but never touching for long. Her pulse sped up again and he touched and kissed, both hands now in her hair, then against her sides, down her legs and she shifted, drawing up her knees.

“Dean…!” He lifted his head again, lowering the leg she had pushed up his hip.

“Tell me what you don’t like,” he urged her, squeezing the flesh of her thigh and she breathed a soft sigh.

“I… I don’t know… Maybe this is supposed to be pleasure, but it’s making me nervous,” she confessed and Dean reached out a hand to gently pat her cheek. “You are erect. You should be able to penetrate me.”

“Is that your way of saying ‘please! I want you inside of me’, Cas?” Dean tried to joke and Castiel pressed her lips together. “You sure…?”

“No.” He sighed, but Dean reached over to the nightstand and got the lubricant.

“Usually, people like foreplay…,” he said more to himself than to her and Castiel felt obliged to justify her failing to behave like normal human people when confronted with foreplay.

“I feel a multitude of sensations and physical reactions. I can’t sort through them properly… This is not my body, nor are they sensations I usually encounter. I’d rather not examine them too closely now… I think it would be beneficial for you to seek climax.” Dean sighed at that, but he had a smile on his face.

“Maybe next time?” he asked and it was unguardedly hopeful. She did not want to disappoint him, especially not now.

“If there is occasion,” she told him and he sat up to squeeze some of the lubricant onto his palm. “If I can… I do not know how my body will react to being host to this… miracle.” Dean managed to grin at her, then he turned his focus elsewhere and Castiel watched him. His fingers were slick against her entrance, but he didn’t linger long, brushing his fingers over her clitoris. She held her breath at the strange sensation. Of course, she knew that this was supposed to be pleasant for women, but it was foreign, alien. An angel was not supposed to feel something this physical, they didn’t work like this.

“Dean, don’t…,” she asked him, the pain-pleasure-discomfort growing as his fingers rubbed circles.

“Sorry…,” Dean said and bent down enough to kiss her flushed cheek. “Next time then…” He hesitated, then his fingers slid down.

“Is this necessary?” Castiel asked when the tip of his fingers slipped into her, just barely, “this body is not virginal.”

“It makes it easier to move and… more comfortable for you I think…,” Dean told her, “just… trust me on this one. Or do you want to do it yourself?”

“No… I do trust your judgment in this,” she told him and sighed, looking at the ceiling. Dean didn’t speak afterwards, just slid one finger into her up to his knuckles and it was strange and pleasing and wrong and right. Castiel disliked feeling more than just one clear cut emotion. She bit her lips when he added a second finger, making slow stretching motions, rubbing the walls inside.

“Better now?”

“I don’t know… I don’t know whether to tell you to stop or to go on…” Castiel answered honestly and Dean laughed gently, but continued, his other hand lazily stroking his penis to maintain and augment his own arousal. When he finally withdrew his fingers and positioned himself Castiel was breathing noisily into the darkness of the room. “You hesitate?”

“Just give me a moment… This is not just sex, Cas…”

“It doesn’t change the technicalities of sexual intercourse much whether we wish to conceive or not…”

“Oh, shut up,” Dean snorted, but he leant down, pulling Castiel closer to his lap, her legs spread and knees drawn. She felt this position to be slightly awkward, but Dean captured her lips in a kiss and she finally lifted her hands to put one on his shoulder, matching her handprint and the other around his neck. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

He thrust forwards, slowly at first, but meeting little resistance it took only one fluid movement. He grunted slightly while Castiel was silent, breathing slowly and deeply. Dean didn’t wait for long, showering her face and neck with kisses, then starting a slow backwards move and thrusting in again. He was gentle at first, picking a slow but steady rhythm. Castiel arched into his touches and kisses, unsure how to react to the thrusts, but like breathing and her heart beating, moving to meet him seemed to be something she didn’t need to do consciously. At least not like this, not when she was so folded up within a physical shell that she felt the danger of Fall and mortality like a presence hovering above her. But God had not forbidden this, this was not the same danger, not the same temptation.

“Dean…” she sighed against his lips, “I think I like this…”

“That’s the spirit, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled breathlessly against her lips and his hand moved down to rub at her clitoris again. “This too?”

“Yes.” She didn’t moan like Dean did, but she sighed against his skin and into his mouth and while her fear was still vibrating within her, Dean’s proximity and the knowledge that she was not doing anything against God’s wishes soothed her. This was good.  This was right.

Dean’s speed had picked up and while he attempted to keep up some sort of rhythm Castiel could hope to match, his movements became irregular, his thrusts deeper, then shallower, then he reached around her knees to pull her closer, to get a different angle.

“Shit, Cas…!” he hissed and Castiel assumed he meant that was some sort of apology or a warning.

“Dean...,” she replied, pulling his head to her neck, feeling his moist and hot breath hit her skin. She crossed her arms over his back, holding him close and his forceful thrusts shook the bed and almost made her hit her head against the headboard if it weren’t for the many cushions. She arched her back, meeting his thrusts as good as she could, her toes digging into Dean’s lower back. He groaned and then he pushed her down into the mattress with his entire weight, not moving anymore. And she felt his orgasm wash over her, the physical sensation no match for the sudden wave of emotion that reached her even though she was so close to her vessel. Joy, hot and vibrant, a thunderstorm of sensations and emotions and wishes, growing in intensity until everything went white and incomprehensible. An explosion of feelings and a glimmering warm darkness following in its wake. She was panting just like he was, overwhelmed and feeling more than humans did, more than angels did.

Dean kissed her wet cheeks and her sobs were muffled against his sweat slick neck.

“Cas…?” she heard Dean whisper and he pulled back enough so he could look down at her. “Are you okay?”

“No,” she whispered, “but I will be… I’m just…” She fought for words to express what she was feeling, but found the human language immensely unequipped for it. Another sob was the closest thing she could do that would not shatter Dean’s eardrums.

“Yeah…  It’s okay, sweetheart…,” he soothed her, kissing her again and again until she managed to catch her breath. “Hey…” He smiled at her when her vision cleared and her hiccups subsided. He wiped her hair out of her face, drawing his knuckles gently over her cheek and jaw.

“Dean,” she acknowledged him with a nod and he kissed her, lips moving against hers slowly.

“What do you think? Some cuddling? Some sleep and we’ll get cleaned up later?” She didn’t need to sleep and she could get herself cleaned up with a thought, but she nodded. He slowly pulled out of her, rolling to the side. Dean got under the covers, getting Castiel under them as well, before pulling her close. He was still kissing her lazily, stroking her face and ribs gently, falling asleep between one kiss and the next. And Castiel was left to contemplate the monumental change that had befallen her.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, my computer decided to crash...
> 
> Thanks to my beta Esmerod, who convinced me to cut some stuff out of the chapter, making it better in the process!

Castiel was glad to find that even now she did not require sleep and she contended herself with watching Dean, listening to his breathing and unfurling enough to feel the echoes of his dreams. But she did not dare to loosen the connection to her vessel too much, unsure what would happen. She tried to listen into herself, examine her essence and her Grace (both dulled, but not broken, not stained), but she could not determine whether Dean had indeed managed to impregnate her.

When dawn lightened up their room Dean began to stir. He was lying close to her, his head on her shoulder and his body radiating warmth and comfort. He woke quickly, pulling himself out of unawareness and lifted his head to look at her. He grinned when he took in her appearance and she wondered if she had mutated over the course of the last few hours. She didn’t feel changed even though she knew she was.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Castiel assumed that this endearment might now stick with her, even though she was not all too fond of it.

“Hello Dean,” she replied and he pulled at her so that she rolled on top of his body, chest pressed to chest. He kissed her sleepily, then hungrily, his tongue pushing between her lips. She could feel he was slightly aroused, nothing that was uncommon for human males upon waking.

“Cas,” he whispered against her lips and his hand moved over her shoulders, down her back, settling on her bottom. He moved against her and she lowered her head when he withdrew his lips from hers to breathe deeply. “Cas…” His fingers moved again, finding her entrance and dipped in and out quickly. She was unsure how to react, tensing enough for Dean to notice. “Shit…! Tell me to stop, Cas!”

“Stop, Dean,” she told him and he opened his eyes, his expression surprised and very cranky, “but you may continue until you find release.”

“I don’t think I like your sense of humor,” he muttered, but then he put his arms around her and kissed her. Castiel was surprised that he didn’t take her agreement as encouragement to go on.

“I don’t think I was joking,” Castiel told him seriously, feeling Dean chuckle in between sloppy kisses to her jaw.

 “Are you using some kind of aphrodisiac mojo on me?” Dean asked, lifting his head to look at her.

“I… am not a cupid, I do not think I can do that,” she answered with a frown. Dean laughed, but then he put his lips to her again.

“Then maybe you’re just a perfect fit,” he told her. Castiel continued frowning and assumed that the correct answer to his sexual excitement was that she was available when he was aroused. Always coming when he called, Castiel mused, she really was too fond of this particular human. She had never feared repercussions when it was about him and she was unsure whether that was good or bad. Dean licked the corner of her lips, trying to get her attention. “You think you got the right Winchester?”

“I do not have sufficient knowledge to issue a founded comparison,” Castiel said and Dean snorted, “but yes… I feel comfort when I am close to you even though this has made me very insecure…”Dean remained silent, but then he moved, pushing her down onto the bed again and for one moment Castiel thought that he would want to try again after all but Dean got up with a groan.

“I need a shower!” he exclaimed, “wanna come with me?”

“Will it involve sexual intercourse?” Castiel asked in alarm and Dean laughed.

“Just showering, Cas,” he said, “but if you want we could-”

“No, thank you, Dean… my vessel is tense,” she replied honestly, looking down at herself. She didn’t feel comfortable, especially not with the idea of copulating again. Her naked body was covered in his sweat, his saliva had dried on her lips, neck and chest and all the rest of the bodily fluids that clung to her were not exactly pleasant. Their physical proximity was welcome to her, as well as the intimate knowledge of his unguarded emotions, but she didn’t find great joy in the uncontrollable reactions of her borrowed body. And this was a mission after all. Even if Castiel was thorough with whatever she did, she assumed that stopping to pause and evaluate her progress before charging on was for the best.

“Suit yourself,” he said and grabbed some things out of the bag from the armchair before disappearing into the bathroom. Castiel got up as well, following him. Dean was bent over the sink, splashing water into his face and Castiel caught herself in the mirror. She could only see her vessel, but for one horrible moment she had identified the reflection with herself. She didn’t like the implication, but she still studied the image.

“You could use a shower too…,” Dean suggested and she caught him looking at her, “you wanna go first?”

“I have never taken a shower before,” she informed him, “and I don’t need to. I will clean up,” she told him, but Dean grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the spacious shower and closed the glass door behind them. The water was already running and steaming up the enclosed space of the shower.

“It’s not rocket science, Cas. Just relax,” he told her and took the showerhead form the wall, bringing it over Castiel’s head. She first tensed at the water and Dean proceeding to gently clean her, but it was soothing. He massaged scented shampoo into her hair before washing it off again, his hands glided over her body without it having an erotic value. “See? All cleaned up,” he said and proceeded to wash himself quickly before shutting the water off and stepping out into the bathroom. He held out a towel for Castiel and wrapped her up in it when she had stepped towards him. He pressed a short kiss to her lips and it felt clean and refreshing, no heat, no pressure, just a quick touch.

“I will get dressed,” Castiel told him when Dean started shaving. He nodded at her and she left the bathroom, dropping the towel at the door.

“Cas, I’m not your maid, don’t just drop your stuff!” she heard Dean say, but chose to ignore him because it was spoken in a teasing manner.

She saw the open bag and even though she knew her clothes were perfectly fine, she was curious what Sam might have packed her. She was unsure how Sam picked the clothes, but she found underwear, new stockings, a navy blue dress with a narrow waist and long sleeves as well as a pale lilac cardigan. She deliberated putting Jamie’s clothes back on, but she did not want Sam’s efforts to go to waste. The underwear fit her, even though the bra was slightly too small, and she found no fault with the other clothes either.

Dean on the other hand frowned at her when he stepped out of the bath.

“They’re fine,” he insisted, “if you’re colorblind.”

“While in this vessel I think I perceive color the same way you do,” she informed him and he groaned. He walked over to where she was sitting in the armchair to put a comb in her hand. She looked at it in confusion until Dean took it back and started combing her already dry hair. She had had no patience to wait for the water to dry.

“Fine, then you and Sammy just don’t have any taste,” Dean said with a snort and Castiel refrained from answering. Taste was completely relative and irrelevant after all. “Okay. Do you want to have breakfast?” Castiel certainly did not want to eat, but she was unsure if she felt hunger. There was some sort of discomfort she thought food might remedy. “Milk? Honey? Some pancakes? What do you say?” There was something in his voice, some sort of second frequency with a different meaning she could not entirely understand. She rose and looked at him and his face was expectant. For an answer whether she was inclined to consume breakfast?

“Dean?” she asked him and he pressed his lips together. She wondered if she should reach out to read him, but he decided to put words to his thoughts.

“Are you… okay?” She tilted her head in confusion. “You know…” He made a vague gesture towards her middle. She widened her eyes in realization.

“Oh. I don’t know. I am not sure how it will manifest…,” she admitted and Dean’s face assumed an air of discomfort.

“You can’t feel it…?” Castiel looked at him without moving, only adding to Dean’s sudden giddiness. “Well, I don’t think women normally do, but you’re an angel…”

“Dean,” Castiel started, lowering her head with a sigh she failed to hold back. “I have nestled so deeply into my vessel to be able to… feel and render this body alive that my usual perception is almost as limited as yours…” Dean appeared taken aback, but he reached out, brushing his fingers against her underarms, then her palms until he took her hands into his and squeezed gently. She felt something inside her chest clench and her eyes sting at his unexpected gentleness. It almost appeared as if Dean acknowledged how demanding this was on her, how much it meant to fold and break and diminish in order to be small enough to fit her vessel in ways to make this possible. She tried to push the emotion to the side in favor of continuing this conversation. It was important for her, suddenly important, that he understood her.

“I fear that if I loosened the hold I have on this physical body, the potential embryo could take damage – that it would either be burned by my Grace or be aborted when Jamie’s body returns to its natural state it had upon becoming my vessel… Our efforts would have been for nothing.” Dean contemplated her words, but he nodded.

“Okay, no problem,” he said and Castiel looked at him. She doubted that it was really no problem, but she was glad for his acceptance of her inability to supply a satisfactory answer. “We’ll just do this the traditional way then… I’ll get Sam on it.” Castiel was not sure what the traditional way was, but she trusted Dean (or at least Sam) to be sufficiently informed on the topic. Dean pulled at Castiel’s hands and she found herself in his tight embrace, breathing in the scent of his shower gel and shaving cream. “Should we get breakfast?” he asked against her cheek, his toes brushing her feet playfully, while his hands pulled her even closer, his skin warm even through his clothes.

She took a calm sort of delight in his touch and his attention. As an angel she did not require his sense of protectiveness, but it was oddly calming to feel him encircle her. Almost as if he cherished her, as if he finally had developed a sense of respect for what she did for him and now tried to pay back her love in equal measures. With some surprise she realized that this day together and this new mission had not only changed her, but also changed him. Not fundamentally so, but he opened up for her and to her and the ragged edge of failure, shame and guilt now seemed covered with layers of numbing cotton. He still hurt, but less so. And she was glad for it.

Castiel realized that Dean was still waiting for her affirmation, so she nodded.

* * *

 

Thanks to last night she thought she already knew what to expect for breakfast, but was surprise by how there was a different way to going about it.

“You don’t wait to be served here, sweetheart,” Dean told her and handed her a plate before guiding her to the tables of the buffet. He seemed enraptured with the choice and she heard him formulate a blessing for Sam and his thoughtful decision to book them a night in a four star establishment. Dean didn’t follow his impulse to wander off to scavenge whatever food he could; he kept firmly to her side. “You put what you like on your plate. And eat as much as you like.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her following this piece of information and Castiel just raised her head uncertainly. He grinned patiently and put his hand on the small of her back to give her a tour of the buffet and supplying advice on food he hoped she would like.

A couple of minutes later she was sitting at a table with a glass of warm milk and a plate full of waffles and fruit in front of her. Dean spilled a generous helping of liquid honey on her waffles and into her milk before grinning up at her.

Dean didn’t appear to be all too interested in starting up a conversation and Castiel turned her attention to her food. She remembered what Dean had said the evening before: a human child needed sustenance. Even if she had conceived then the little clump of cells didn’t yet qualify as a child in her eyes and it would probably not yet need extra care. And Castiel assumed that it would feed exclusively on her Grace, at least God had implied as much.

Still, she tasted everything Dean had offered her and while she had no particular opinion on most things, she was not averse to sweetness especially in the form of honey and fruit. She wondered if she could nourish her body on fruit and honey alone if the need would arise.

“So you do like that,” Dean stated when she swallowed almost the entire glass of honey sweetened milk. Licking her lips, she looked up at him to see him gesture towards her glass and plate. “Honey and milk.”

“It appeals to me for a reason I have not yet come to understand,” she answered and put the glass back down to focus on the waffle again. Dean chuckled.

“Taste doesn’t exactly need to make sense,” he told her, “But it’s good. Sweet stuff, I can do that. You’re low maintenance. Well, I’m sure Sammy will probably come up with a list of healthy food to help the baby angel grow.” Castiel frowned at that.

“That’s not necessary, I assume it will feed off my Grace,” she told him, but Dean made a face at that, “Also, what I conceive and give birth to is not a baby angel. It’s a…” she frowned, thinking about what exactly it will be but coming up with nothing helpful. “ _Something_.” Dean snorted into his coffee and put it back down to grin at her, his mirth visible on his face. Castiel pressed her lips together, suddenly self-conscious when faced with such a heartfelt smile.

“Great. We’re going to make a new species. I’ll have to think of a name for it.”

“It’s not a new species, Dean… Half-human and half-angel children have existed before, but the circumstances this time are entirely different.”

“Yeah, I get it. Because you’re a female angel and because God wanted it. No abomination, just God’s miracles.” He was still cheerful, but Castiel’s frown had not yet left her face.

“I’m not a female angel, Dean, I’m just in a female vessel.” Dean looked up from the sausage he wanted to stick in his mouth and lifted an eyebrow.

“So you’re a boy angel? Dude, that’s… uhm…”

“No, Dean. We don’t reproduce. We have no need for sexes…,” she explained and drank the rest of her milk. “Well… until now. It seems God has gifted me with the ability to carry children…” Dean leant back in his chair, looking at her with a curious expression.

“Even outside of a vessel?” Castiel creased her brow at that.

“I don’t know… I feel changed, so maybe I am a female angel after all… Unless my gift of life means I could also-“

“Okay!” Dean said, cutting her off with his exclamation. “Let’s just leave it at the female angel bit. Don’t damage my self-perception please.”

“Your self-perception already pretty damaged, Dean,” she told him sharply and he widened his eyes. “You don’t give yourself enough credit… You’re good and righteous.” Dean’s prolonged silence caused Castiel to look up at him and found conflict on his face.

“Cas-“

“I will continue trying to convince you of it then,” she said, not unkind and Dean relaxed after a while, an almost shy smile stealing itself onto his lips.

“Okay, it’s a promise,” he said and Castiel realized that she had no ring to give to him to seal their promise. She would have to get him one when she had the time.

Dean took her back to the room after breakfast and they simply rested, Dean pressed against her as if curling towards protective warmth. There was vulnerability in the way he exposed himself to her and Castiel understood it as him offering her his hard to earn and fragile trust. She gladly took it, she gladly wrapped her arms around him, she gladly spun a cocoon of blessings and Grace around him for as long as he allowed her.

It was almost noon when Dean finally lifted his head from her chest, barely enough to be able to plant kisses on her collarbones and down to where her breasts started. He groaned against her skin, then, with some difficulty he lifted himself up.

“Okay, I guess it’s time to move out,” he said, reaching out with his free hand to brush Castiel’s hair out of her face. “Come on.”

“Part of your weight is still on me,” Castiel observed and Dean laughed, kissing her on her lips.

“Fine then,” he snorted in amusement, then he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Castiel sat up as well, watching the back of Dean Winchester as he bent down to pull on his shoes.

Castiel lifted her head, listening. She could feel the gentle whisper of the Host, her superiors asking her to look into something that might be a potential seal to guard.

“Dean?” The man lifted his head, then he straightened, still looking at her. “I am needed.”

“Angel business?” Dean asked, his calm voice trying to mask the moment of disappointment he had felt at her leaving him.

“Yes. I will come to you as soon as I can,” she promise and Dean made a sound halfway between a snort and an agreeing hum. He raised her eyebrows again and the look he showed her was almost shy. Castiel stepped close to him, putting her hands on his upper arms and reaching up to place her lips gently over his. Dean closed his eyes and she felt him sigh against her lips, lifting his arms to hold her gently.

“Take care, Cas,” he said and she stepped away and the next moment the room disappeared and with it the warm presence of Dean.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep being slightly delayed with my update schedule. This time it's caused by the internet not working and having to write a paper presentation. D:
> 
> My beta, esmerod, has added notes of the "are you sure there are no Sassy vibes in this?" variety into the proof-read text, so I feel compelled to warn: there are a few moments between Sam and Castiel that you could read as romantic if you want to. I feel it's more platonic in nature, but maybe my soft spot for Sam/Castiel is shining through. I let you be the judge.

Castiel found herself occupied by battle following battle. Zachariah sent her on as many as he could find, some of them appeared mundane, while others were of great importance. She felt relieved to see that the change that must have befallen her was not yet apparent. She was still the leader of the earthbound garrison, she was still respected, she was still strong. Zachariah showered her with praise and while she felt pride in being the focus of his song (even if only though for a short time), she could not shake off the feeling that the string of missions was keeping her away from the Winchesters on purpose.

“Worry not, sister,” Zachariah told her, upturned earth soaked red and the smoldering bodies of dozens of demons lying at their feet. “I know the influence those Winchester boys have on you… Humans generally carry that taint and greedy and helpless as they are, you usually end up with greasy handprints all over you.”

“I don’t understand,” Castiel told him, keeping herself firm and upright in the face of her superior, but something inside of her made her shy away from him. As if his piercing eye, benevolent, but still sharp and searching, could spot the echoes of God’s Word in her if only he cared enough to look for it. He did not need to know about the mission God has bestowed on her specifically. If it was God’s will for the Host to know, then He would relay it to them; it was not Castiel’s place to tell her brethren. But angels were not made to keep secrets.

 Zachariah laughed, reaching out to put his palms on her shoulders, patting her jovially. Even though he wore a vessel, his palms felt cool, just a weight – wrong, somehow. Angels, Castiel reminded herself, were not meant to feel like anything at all on Earth. Zachariah was not wrong. He was right.

“Don’t worry. We’ll give you a good wash once we’re done here,” he said and Castiel tilted her head in puzzlement. “You raised the Righteous Man, you’ve got some sort of connection to him. I need you to keep your eyes on him for a while longer. But I need to be sure that I can count on you, Castiel.”

“I will do God’s work,” she answered promptly and Zachariah’s lips pulled into a grin.

“Good. Everyone has their roles to play.” He let go of her, then he turned away, already on his way back to Heaven. “I will inform you when you are needed.”

Castiel looked up at the pink and blue sky, then, after giving the battlefield one last glance, she finally cast her awareness to the Winchester brothers again. She felt them, radiant even through the miles upon miles stretching between them. She breathed in the crisp air of the early morning, sulfur and poisonous blood being swept away by the breeze. Drawing in air through her open mouth, feeling it course down her throat and into her lungs, she expanded, pushing against the confines of the vessel. She’d return to them, to their motel room, to their hunts, to their car, to the warmth of Dean’s embrace and Sam’s shy smile.

She soared up into the air, the voice of the Host a welcome cacophony of pleasant sounds, harmonious and strengthening. She did not wish to give this up, she did not wish to sink into humanity. Wash it off, the greasy handprints and the human stain.   
_No_. Her entire body recoiled at the wrongness of such thoughts. Castiel shut herself off to the Host instantly, the sudden silence almost painful. But in the stillness she felt it…

It was a weight, small, barely noticeable, but certainly there. A weight clinging to her essence with ghost fingers. A weight in her wings, trickling through her feathers, tickling and tugging. It was like a living bolt of lightning, like a flicker of a flame. It expanded and pulsed the more she focused on it, a diffuse feeling of happiness to be acknowledged sizzling down her wings to the very tips.

Castiel landed in wonder, sinking back into the warmth of her vessel and let the sensation wash over her. It resided in her body, content and cozy and small, in the darkness of her physical womb. It was real. It was a human being, living, fragile and mortal, but it was blessed with Grace.

A surprised cry passed her lips and startled the pigeons and the old couple sitting on the bench close to where she had landed.

“Are you alright, Miss?” the man wondered with a hint of concern and Castiel lowered her head, the wide-eyed stare that she had fixed to the sky overhead still unseeing. “Miss?”

“I’m pregnant,” she said, the words foreign on her tongue, and she titled her head in wonder. When she felt a hand on her arm she turned her head around, focusing her eyes on the human. She was met with a bright, warm smile. Castiel could read the woman’s life in all the lines of her face, accessible and real like the print in a book, but the apparent joy she felt for a stranger surprised her.

“Congratulations, dear!” she said and the man next to her mumbled something as well. Castiel nodded her head, then she turned around again, the motel where Sam and Dean were not too far away.

“I need to tell Dean,” she decided, because having a clear goal to focus on was the easiest way to deal with it right now. Her mission had advanced one decisive step.

“You do that, good luck,” the woman said, but Castiel barely registered it. Neither did she care about the gasp of surprise coming from the old couple when she flew away, landing in the middle of the Winchesters’ motel room not a second later.

“Woah!” That was Sam, jumping out of his chair and swiping two heavy tomes off the table in the process. “Castiel?”

“Hello Sam,” she said, trying to be calm as she forced all of her essence back into her vessel. It was difficult, especially now that the Grace of Dean’s offspring ran through her own like playful electric currents. She looked over at Dean, who was blinking up at her from the bed, a bottle of beer now abandoned on the night-table. “Dean.”

“Cas, dude! Couldn’t you have dropped by sooner?” he asked and Castiel’s breath hitched at his aggressive tone.

“Easy, Dean. Come on,” Sam said next to her and she found his hands on her to be very comforting and anchoring. Her Essence settled, but her physical body felt slightly off and ill at ease. “Are you alright, Cas?” Castiel took a step to the side, closer to Sam, while Dean just stared at her blankly – one wall of seething tension - before his face changed. He sighed deeply and got up.

“I’m sorry… But you’ve been gone for a month…” he explained. Then he lifted one of his arms, moving his hand and Castiel realized that he wanted her to approach.

“I didn’t realize that this much time had passed. I must apologize. I’ve been sent to a lot of battles lately.” She walked over to Dean and he pulled her into a rough embrace, placing a kiss on her forehead before he let go of her again.

“Well, it’s good that you’re back,” Dean said and that felt like the end of the subject to Castiel. “How are you?” Castiel didn’t reply, because she had no short, easy answer to that question.

“We have the test with us, if you need it,” Sam spoke up behind her when the silence was finally too awkward for him, but Castiel shook her head.

“No. I felt it just a few minutes ago,” Castiel said and looked up in slight wonder when heavy silence settled in the room. She looked at Dean, whose face was pale and stern. She turned to Sam helplessly and the younger Winchester snapped out of it far quicker and pulled her into a hug.

“Why are you both upset?” she managed to ask, her voice small and she felt tension rising in her, closing off her throat. “That’s what we were aiming at…” Sam rubbed her back and she pressed her forehead against his shoulder.

“Look, it’s okay… We’re not really upset… It’s just big news, even if we were hoping for it to happen.” Sam told her gently, the circling movement of his hand on her back bringing more warmth into her vessel. After a while he let go of her, turning her around so she could look at Dean. The older Winchester stared at her, a variety of emotions passing over his face, without one lasting long enough for Castiel to be able to properly focus on it. “Congratulations, Dean and Cas.” Sam’s voice held a hint of a smile and when Castiel looked over her shoulder she could see the shy smile on his lips as well. Dean stirred, looking first at his brother, then his eyes focused on Castiel. He pulled the corner of his mouth up tentatively. “We should. Ah… We should celebrate!” Castiel was still looking at Dean, neither of them speaking, while Sam was moving about in the motel room. “I’ll ask Bobby to send someone else to burn the bones. Relatively easy job after all… I’ll… Do you want to go for some late dinner? Maybe… ah… should I stay behind? Maybe you want to be…”

“Sam?” Castiel asked and he stopped fretting at once. She finally took her eyes off Dean and turned around. The taint on Sam seemed so small compared to the brilliant radiance he emitted now, looking at her with wide, shining eyes. “Tell me where the bones are. I will burn them and then we can do something to… celebrate.” Sam looked as if he wanted to protest, but then he nodded and told her the location. “I will be quick.” She flew off before any of the brothers could say anything. Maybe she did not understand that much about humans, but this had seemed like a moment for the brothers to discuss in silence.

* * *

 

She stood in front of the motel room door, giving the brothers some more moments to themselves and her a few minutes to assess her situation. The faint scent of the burning bones was still clinging to her, but it dissipated fast in the chilly wind. Physically she did only notice the small cluster of cells when she focused on it. A human woman probably would not be able to feel it expanding. Quite possibly quicker than human embryos usually did, not that Castiel was all too acquainted with the process. Castiel could easily ignore it by reducing her awareness, but the flicker of what made it divine was harder to dismiss. While it didn’t seem to be all sentient yet, it did feel like an individual in the making. Castiel wondered if her siblings would notice it or if they would merely consider it to be a disturbance in her own Essence, sullied maybe by her exposure to humans. She shook her wings when it rolled around insubstantial feathers, forcing it back down into her Essence, cushioning it with Grace.

Castiel was puzzled by the sudden notion that it was pouting at her. She took a step backwards, back into the Winchester’s now silent motel room. Whatever the two brothers might have discussed in her absence, they were done.

“Cas? You okay?” Dean wondered, shrugging on his coat. Castiel must still have been wearing that frown at being able to discern the potential mood of the one month old presence whereas there had been none at all in the weeks before. She pushed herself firmly into her vessel, not wanting to risk drawing any angel’s or demon’s attention to her.

“Yes. The spirit is taken care of,” she replied, looking at Dean. He nodded at her appreciatively, then he clapped his hands.

“So. Sam and me thought we’d take you out, feed you some decent pie. Baby probably likes pie if it’s anything like me.”

“I do not think that at its current developmental state it is able to appreciate the taste of pie,” Castiel informed him. Dean rolled his eyes at her, then he slipped his arm around her waist, guiding her outside.

“If its Mommy is happy it might feel that,” Dean insisted and Castiel thought about that, pondering if the playful thing rolling around her Grace might react to what she felt.

“We can try,” she admitted and Dean grinned at her, kissing her when he thought Sam wasn’t looking. Castiel was glad that the drive to the diner was short, because even though she had the entire backseat for herself, she still felt caged. The air was chilly and the exhaled air formed little puffy hazes in front of Dean and Sam’s mouths as they walked over to the diner. Castiel opened her mouth, breathing out air, watching it whirl and disappear.

She followed the other two inside when Dean called her and took a seat at the table they were offered. Her designed place was next to Dean and Sam giddily folded his hands on top of the table’s surface.

“I’ll be paying! Order anything you like!” Sam said and Castiel took the menu the waitress handed her.

“You usually pay for me,” she reminded him, memorizing the menu and picking out some things that sounded familiar. “I appreciate it,” she added before Sam could protest. The younger Winchester smiled at her.

“Take advantage of it, Cas,” Dean said, putting one arm over the backrest, his fingers occasionally reaching out to brush her shoulder. “I’m sure Sam will put you on a healthy pregnancy-friendly diet afterwards.” Castiel turned her head to look at him, then her eyes focused on Sam and she nodded slowly.

“I assume that nourishment won’t be necessary, but if you think it prudent to supply my body with proper nourishment for it then I am willing to do what is needed.” Sam seemed surprised to be met with no resistance at all and while Dean groaned he just beamed at her.

“I’ve read a couple of books on pregnancy! I’ll take care of it,” he promised and Castiel nodded gratefully. Sam turned his head to Dean and grinned at him. “Dean would probably feed you pie and burgers.” Dean snorted at that. When the waitress came over, Castiel ordered a fruit salad and tea with honey. She turned to look at Dean.

“Maybe you will share a slice of pie with me?” Dean seemed surprised at that and Sam had to cough out his order. She looked at them in wonder, having assumed that the sharing of food would be an adequate activity they would know to appreciate.

“Uh, sure,” Dean said, sending Sam a warning glare that only caused Sam to laugh some more. The waitress was very patient with them, smiling at all of them when the brothers argued over which pie to choose.

“Hell must have frozen over for Dean Winchester to share pie,” Sam said solemnly when the waitress had left and Castiel looked at him in alarm.

“Shut up Sam. There’s a child in there and it needs pie,” he said, reaching down to pat Castiel’s flat stomach “right baby?” A shiver went through Castiel and she tensed up. Dean noticed and looked up at her with raised eyebrows before he drew back both his hand then his entire body slowly.

“Sorry.”

“No…,” Castiel said, frowning.

“Something the matter?” Sam asked, reaching out to cover her hand on the table with his. The shiver was there again, a bit weaker, but still a pleasant sensation tickling up her spine.

“I’m not sure…” Castiel answered, observing the small distortions to her Grace and Essence. “I think Dean’s offspring is excited…” She saw that Sam’s eyes widened and shone brightly in surprise and mirth. She looked to the side, finding a stunned expression on Dean’s face. Sam’s fingers closed around hers, squeezing her hands encouragingly.

“You can feel it?” Dean wondered, “after just a month?” Castiel inclined her head towards him, licking her lips before continuing in a low tone, loud enough for Sam across the table to hear.

“What metaphysically exists of the child, yes. It clings to my true form within this vessel and the Grace that I possess…”she tried to explain and Dean started grinning at her.

“And it is excited because there’s going to be pie?” he asked and Sam snorted at it.

“I don’t think so… I suspect it reacts to the touches of you both. It seems to recognize you as kin,” Castiel said. Dean’s sudden excitement was momentarily interrupted by the arrival of their orders. When he had the plate in front of him he turned to look back at her with a somewhat torn expression.

“Dean? What’s the matter?” Sam asked before Castiel had the chance to interpret this odd change.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, repeating it again before sinking his fork into the pie. He loaded a generous piece of pie and whipped cream onto the fork. “Okay, open up mama angel,” he said and Sam had to laugh, while Castiel looked at him in confusion.

“Dean,” she started, feeling that whatever had unsettled Dean should best be addressed in time, but the hunter apparently had no interest in furthering the discussion. He bumped the fork against Castiel’s lips, the metal digging softly into her skin. She lowered her eyes, but then she opened up her mouth and let herself be fed. The sugar sweetness of the pie didn’t excite the suddenly still miracle deep down inside of her.

* * *

 

Castiel kept close to the Winchester brothers. Whether it was by Zachariah’s orders or the boys’ own wishes Castiel wasn’t sure about. But she was there, a sure and steady presence framing a hunt when she didn’t have to fight herself. She was there, but she didn’t fit in.

She knew that Dean wanted to keep his eyes on her because she “carried precious cargo”, while all she actually did was letting her vessel’s body forge a weapon against the apocalypse. She of course understood that offspring always had a great value for humans, but Dean’s care still struck her as exceptional. Dean wanted her in the empty spaces between the things he and Sam did. He wanted her in the motel rooms, he wanted her in the diner seats, he wanted her leaning against the side of his car, seeing him off. But he didn’t want to look at her.

“He’s… just tense,” Sam said one day after Dean had quickly excused himself to get something or another from a library.

“I don’t understand what he is trying to do,” Castiel said honestly and lowered herself onto one of the beds upon Sam’s insistence. Sam closed the book he had been reading and put it on the night table to focus all of his attention on Castiel. For some reason it made her soften her gaze; it was a comfort to see Sam’s regard for her so openly. She knew Dean cared, he had told her so almost two months ago, but she couldn’t help noticing the distance he tried to put between them, the layers of caution he covered himself with.

Sam sighed and rubbed his hands together.

“Look… I know he’s avoiding you and I know you have noticed,” he started, then he sighed deeply, “I assume he just can’t… I think he doesn’t believe that this will turn out well. That you… _we_ can be family when this is all over… And ever since you mentioned the baby recognizing its family he’s withdrawn into himself…” Castiel listened carefully, trying to understand what was going through Dean’s head. She wasn’t even surprised. In the end her presence here had not been able to convince him that good things did happen. And how could it, when ever since the angels had appeared nothing has gotten easier for the hunter or his brother?

“I… understand... Thank you, Sam,” she replied even though the true reason for Dean’s behavior eluded her and the corners of Sam’s lips twitched. She tilted her head in silent inquiry. Sam averted his eyes, but then he lifted his palms to his face, covering his mouth with them tensely.

“You said…,” he started and turned to look at Castiel. He lowered his hands, his face softening into vulnerability. “The baby recognized me as family… But I’m… not exactly something Heaven wants to associate itself with…” Castiel looked at him in surprise, but then she inched closer to him, Sam leaning backwards in surprise. She studied him before she lifted her hand to place it against Sam’s cheek. Sam instantly closed his eyes, bringing his hands forwards to hold her waist. The burst of energy buzzed back to life, quivering faintly against the cocoon of its parent’s Essence and Grace. She felt warmth pool in the center of her chest, drawing curiously but insistently towards Sam’s troubled soul.

“I wish you wouldn’t do what you are doing, Sam, even if I understand what caused you to start… But you sought help in the wrong places… I heard you. I was fighting, Sam… Fighting to bring your brother back to you while you looked at the only places you knew… Dark places, Sam…” The younger Winchester looked at Castiel, eyes wide, lashes wet with unshed tears. He averted his eyes.

“I… I didn’t know what to do…,” Sam whispered and Castiel nodded, now holding Sam’s face in both of her hands. Castiel was not sure if the gesture would comfort him, she had not been made to shower humans with caresses, but then again, no angel had. So Castiel did what the insistent tugging inside her core urged her to do; she brushed her thumbs over Sam’s cheeks and corners of his mouth in a soothing rhythm. Sam did seem surprised, but he lent into her touch after a moment of tension.

“I understand… You have got to make your choices, Sam… And whatever that will be, you will still be family...” Sam was biting his lips, his eyes shining when he looked up at her. “I feel the child reaching out towards you in curiosity. Maybe you can reach back?” She offered and Sam looked at her uncertainly, but upon Castiel’s serene gaze, he swallowed and inched forwards. His hands drew back, palms travelling from her waist to her stomach.

“No,” Castiel said gently, taking hold of Sam’s hands and guiding them upwards, pressing his hands flatly against her sternum. Sam seemed slightly uneasy about touching her, but after a while his eyes widened slightly. Castiel was sure that he could perceive the faint trembling of the buzzing energy, or at least the warmth the child gave off. She could even feel it vibrating through the hands of Sam she covered with her own.

“It’s… warm… and tickles slightly… As if you touch your hand to a TV screen…” Sam said utter fascination painted all over his face. “And that’s… the child’s Grace?”

“No… That’s the child’s… soul if you want. It developed out of grain of my Essence and grows by using my Grace…,” Castiel explained and Sam tapped his fingertips against Castiel’s skin. The child gave a start, a little burst of energy that made it scatter all over Castiel, before it bundled itself back together into a ball to press against Sam’s hand. The sensation was odd, off-putting but in a way it also reminded her of her own vastness within her borrowed human body. “It seems very interested in you…” Sam looked up at her, eyes still wide, then he turned his eyes back down to where his hand was connected to Castiel.

“Uh… So… Hey there… I’m your uncle Sam,” he said carefully and with a low voice just above a whisper. He gave a start then and Castiel assumed that he had felt the child’s responding buzz. “This is… really incredible… I’m communicating with a baby angel.” Castiel wanted to argue that it was neither a baby angel nor was Dean’s offspring capable of any coherent communication so shortly after its conception, but Sam just moved his fingers as she had seen him when writing on his computer. It was strange and the being inside of her squirmed. It took her a moment to realize that the child was actually enjoying this attention.

“I’m tickling it. Is it ticklish?” Sam wondered, his own childlike joy gracing his features.

“Very much so,” Castiel agreed, but her eyes did not leave Sam’s face, studying him with an intensity she usually reserved for Dean. She could see where Azazel had tainted him, she could see it ingrained into his body and snatching at his soul. She could see the last remnants of demonic blood sizzling up. Nothing, she noticed, dulled his soul in this very moment. It was blazing and bright.

“Cas? Castiel? Are you alright?” Sam asked and she only belatedly realized that his hands had stopped their tickling motion even though the child’s presence still burned brightly in her chest.

“I wish to apologize, Sam,” she said and Sam blinked a few times in confusion, “that you feel Heaven does not think you worthy.”

“Wh… What are you talking about?” Sam wondered, tugging his hands back towards him.

“Dean told me that you were very disappointed with us angels… That you are afraid of us. But you need not be afraid of me… I will not…” She searched her memory for the term Dean had used: “strike you down with lightning.” Sam stared at her in silence, but then he grinned and pulled Castiel in a hug. She didn’t understand what impulse had driven him to do that, but she wrapped her arms around his middle to return the embrace.

“Thanks, Cas,” he whispered into her hair, “you’re really a blessing.” Castiel’s breath hitched at the unexpected words; words that touched her more than Sam could probably know.

“Am I interrupting you girls?” Sam let go almost immediately at Dean’s arrival. Dean was pulling off his jacket and tossing his keys on the table, not looking at Sam or Castiel.

“How was research?” Sam asked in return and Dean snorted, drawing his fingers through his hair, combing it back in the process. When Dean didn’t reply Sam just snorted, scratching his forehead.

“What kind of research were you occupied with? Maybe I can help,” Castiel offered, but Sam shook his head at her.

“Cas… That was just an excuse to get away,” he explained and Castiel narrowed her eyes in confusion, “he needed some alone time.”

“Sam, get lost,” Dean said flatly and Sam heaved a sigh, getting up from bed. Castiel looked up at him in confusion, but he smiled at her, before he grabbed his jacket and headed out to get them food. Unless this was another excuse. Castiel turned her eyes towards Dean when he groaned, rubbing his neck.

“Are you ill at ease?” she wondered and Dean opened his eyes, looking at her silently before he shrugged out of his jacket.

“Kind of,” he said and then he walked over to her, coming to stand just before her, but not looking like he was inclined to take a seat. “We need to talk.”

“Yes, please,” was all Castiel said, trying to contain her confusion, gesturing her hand to the bed. Dean didn’t take her up on her offer right away, rather looking her up and down. Castiel didn’t really like being the subject of his scrutiny and she frowned up at him. “Sit, Dean,” she ordered and Dean actually did, taking the spot Sam had previously occupied. Castiel studied him, how his posture was tense, how he had his head turned away and his eyes cast down in contemplation. Without probing deeper, Castiel could read the anxiety he emitted, the worry, the guilt, the hope, the self-hatred. It was nothing new for Dean, but Castiel still didn’t like it. Unsure whether any kind of comfort was desired now, Castiel reached out both of her hands, placing one on his back and the other on his chest. Dean’s head jerked up and his eyes were on her, but Castiel felt for the nervous thrum of his heartbeat and the shift in the crashing waves of his emotions towards something more peaceful. She leant closer to him until she could look at his face more closely.

“Uhm…” he started, but Castiel tilted her head at him.

“Speak, Dean… What is it that has you so unnerved?” she asked and Dean’s eyes narrowed, his entire expression morphing into one of barely concealed pain. “Sam said me you withdrew yourself when I told you about your child perceiving you as kin.” Dean didn’t say anything but Castiel did not need to hear it spoken. “Why?”

“Because…,” Dean reached up one hand, wiping his forehead, “it feels like I’ll just let it down. It already knows we’re family, but all we’re going to do is use it in some blood ritual…! I won’t be a father to it, Cas. At best I’ll be that guy who’ll doom it with the way I live.”

“Dean…”

“Don’t,” Dean hissed, lifting up a hand to silence Castiel. She didn’t say anything, but only because she saw the trembling of his hand. “We won’t be a family. I know that... But I still _wish_ we could be… And it’s killing me that I’m just going to mess this kid’s life up.” Castiel sighed when Dean fell to silence. She sat up straight and let go of Dean, only to grab a hold of his chin and turning his face towards her.

“You need to stop this, Dean. Stop seeing yourself as a stain that sullies any kind of happiness your family and those around you might have. That’s not the case, Dean.” Dean frowned at her. “You have so much worth and you just don’t want to see it. Stubborn as you have become.”

“Cas… I’m not being stubborn…,” Dean argued, but it was with a weak voice, “but shit keeps on being piled on me. Everyone had these great expectations of me. Even my unborn kid now!” Castiel looked at him, staring into his eyes in silence, but then she eased the hold on his jaw, drawing her fingers gently over the stubble there.

“Yes… But you don’t need to carry it all alone,” she said and pressed against his shoulder, so he turned his upper body to face her. Dean widened his eyes slightly, but Castiel closed hers, finding Dean’s mouth with ease. The kiss was just a gentle press of lips against lips, but Dean made a chocked sound against her mouth, before he reached out to pull her towards him. He continued kissing her, close-mouthed and wet. She wiped at his eyes, never breaking the string of soft kisses, some lingering, some short, some chaste, some deep. Castiel really came to appreciate kissing – the short, secretive stolen kisses when Dean thought no one was looking, the brush of lips against her brow, now this. She could feel Dean then, gentle and with an unusual contentment.

The child squirmed into its wondrous state of awareness with little sparks and Castiel gasped against Dean’s lips and his fingers clenched around her wrists. She felt warm all over, from the core of her spreading in waves to the tips of her fingers now interlacing with Dean’s to her lips. The simple and unfiltered joy of the child’s familiar Grace purified Castiel where she thought she’d been sullied before by accepting a different kind of servitude to Dean Winchester. She felt good now, so good that she whispered words of love in the language of her heart. Blessings on Dean’s lips, his forehead, his palms. He returned the gesture in the gentleness of his hands as he guided her down on the bed, the slow movements and the gentle press of his body against hers. But most of all in his own promises kissed upon her lips.

“Thank you, thank you. I love you too. Castiel.” There were so many different reasons to cry, Castiel found she liked this one.

* * *

 

When Sam returned it was with an assemblage of exaggerated noise, shy glances back and forth and bags of food.

“Thank God, you’re both dressed,” he said and Castiel tilted her head. They had been dressed for quite a while now but she had not felt inclined to leave the bed. She was sitting against the headboard while Dean had retreated to the window as soon as Sam had made himself heard. Castiel understood now that it had been a warning for Dean to get into a state he found presentable. She could still feel the warmth of his fingers on her stomach. “Food,” Sam said, shortly, before he tossed keys and a mobile phone onto the table. Castiel felt no need to eat but Sam held up a container for her to see. “Tea with honey and milk and some fruit for you, Castiel.”

“Uncle Sam’s eager to feed the mama angel,” Dean quipped but made a sound of victory upon discovering what seemed to be pie amongst a number of things Dean deemed too healthy to be interesting.

“Come on Dean… You’re going to be a father, you might as well try not to give yourself a heart attack before the kid’s born,” Sam warned. Castiel joined them at the small table, taking the steaming cup carefully.

“Got a handful of baby earlier,” Dean said in between bites of sandwich and Sam grinned at him, “buzzing like electricity I tell you. Strange to think I’ve fathered a bolt of lightning.”

“It does have a human body though,” Sam stated, looking over at Castiel for affirmation, “it is her Grace that becomes your blood…”

“Yeah… I felt that too,” Dean said with a wink in Sam’s direction. The younger Winchester frowned at Dean, but then he turned his face back to Castiel.

“It does seem to be more developed than its mere two months. What do you think? How long until you’re due?” he wondered and Castiel licked her lips, tasting strawberries and honey on her tongue. She lowered her eyes and concentrated on the growing child inside of her.

“It’s only about 3.5 inches small,” she said, taking in the small tremors of jerky movement of the small head. Looking inside of her she found it to be rather strange to behold. “I cannot yet tell whether it is female or male…”

“But that means,” Sam said slowly, not even having to make a grab for his laptop, “you’re probably towards the end of your fourth month… Which means you progress twice as fast as a human.” Dean whistled at that but Castiel wasn’t sure why.

“So if we can stop the cage from being torn open for about three more months we actually have a good chance to keep Satan under lock and key,” he said and looked at Castiel. She was undecided of what to make of his expression in its strange mixture of hope and anxiety. “How are the seals faring?” Dean wondered and Castiel shook her head. “Is that an _I don’t know_ headshake or a _times are looking grim_ headshake?”

“The demons have managed to break more than half of the seals, by my reckoning there are still 19 to fall before the cage is opened.” Dean and Sam looked worried and that with good reason. Castiel should be out on the battle field, actively protecting the seals, but Zachariah’s orders had been to keep close to the Winchesters. Maybe he feared that harm could befall them as much as Castiel did.

“Well… Not to be crass, but in the end it only said you needed the blood…,” Sam said slowly and winced even as Dean turned his head towards him.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Dean started and Sam guilty bit his lips, “nobody’s going to suggest anything rash!”

“We could… If it’s possible” Dean was still incredibly tense and Castiel reached out her hand to put it in his neck, drawing her fingers through the short hair in a gesture she hoped would calm him. “We could maybe force labor once Castiel is sure it’s developed enough to survive.” Dean raised an eyebrow, but Castiel could see that Sam’s suggestion wasn’t met with outright refusal.

“A premature birth?” Dean wondered and looked over at Castiel, “isn’t that risky?”

“I think she’s probably able to gauge whether its development is sufficient to assure its survival,” Sam continued and both of them waited for Castiel to give her own opinion. She did hesitate, looking at the impossibly small and fragile thing inside of her, constantly growing.

“I see the benefit in such an approach,” she said,” but I’m unsure when the child’s soul is ready to separate from mine and connect with its vessel… It might happen as late as birth or it might happen earlier. But I am certain I could force birth if we run out of time.” Dean, all interest in his food lost, looked at her with concern. And it felt odd and soothing and humbling all at once to be at the receiving end of such an honest feeling of protection. “I will not risk your family, Dean, I promise.” Dean responded to that with a small jerk away from her, taken by surprise and he darted nervous eyes to Sam. But the younger Winchester was brimming with joy at her assurance and it seemed to take the need to run out of his older brother.

“Dean,” Sam whispered and Castiel was confused –if he wanted her not to hear him then he was far too loud. But a small wink in Castiel’s direction told her that he was somehow meaning to be obvious despite his conspiratorial tone. “Man up and say it.” Dean rewarded that with a kick to Sam’s legs that shut Sam up but didn’t eradicate his smile. Dean sighed, clearly warring with himself, but he did turn back to Castiel.

“Our family, Cas,” he said and Castiel looked at him in confusion. “It’s also yours, Castiel… I mean… If you want to be part of us… It’s not exactly a walk-“ It was Sam’s kick that shut off Dean’s rambling and Castiel was still surprised.

Castiel thought about the meaning of his words and the risks of giving in to her need to be acknowledged by Dean, to want to be near to Dean – and that was new too, this sudden and all-consuming want for closeness. She had felt it before, always felt it with her celestial family. The discontent she felt walking the earth alone, the soothing pleasure that coursed through her when she was with her brothers, the feeling of loss when battle claimed her family. More and more she had felt herself pulled towards those two brothers, yearning for something that she should not crave, not from humans. Zachariah would probably lecture her for getting ensnared by humans, but she loved them. Like she was made to and now how she had learnt to love differently.

Her entire thought process must have taken longer than she had assumed because both Winchester boys were now growing slightly fidgety and Dean’s face was stormy. But Castiel gave way to an impulse that was human or maybe it was something the new soul inside of her pushed her to do, but she reached out to embrace Dean, kissing him despite his surprised sputter and Sam’s high-pitched gasp before he laughed.

“Yes.” She said firmly after releasing Dean’s lips, then she got up and approached Sam. The younger Winchester was at a loss, looking at Dean frantically but soon found himself in the embrace of Castiel.

“Cas, you don’t-“ Dean sighed loudly as she pressed her lips to Sam’s too. “Okay, whatever.” Sam looked puzzled and an array of confused thoughts and emotions were spilling over for Castiel to pick up on.

“I should depart,” Castiel said before either of the men could speak up again. “The state of the seals is worrying me, too many have already broken.” She didn’t tell them how she thought that being sent away from the battlefields by Zachariah was one of the reasons they hadn’t been able to keep more seals from being broken. She rarely heard from him anymore, not even to point the Winchesters towards seals to save. She needed to protect her human family. She needed to talk to Zachariah.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, not delayed! As always, my thanks go to Esmerod for looking through this! :D
> 
> Two more chapter after this before the first part is concluded, I should really start working on the continuation...!

The earthbound garrison responded with a worried but resolute buzz of activity once Castiel opened her awareness to them again. Even though they had been reduced to the role of watchers for millennia they were at the core soldiers, just like Castiel - or just like Castiel had been before Dean Winchester, before God’s unexpected blessing. They felt the vibrations of the earth and the roar of demons. Too loud, too close and too sure of themselves.

“This is worrisome,” one of her brothers whispered to her, the echo ghosting through the closer connection between those of the garrison, unheard of by the Host of Heaven and those that had chosen to witness on earth, like Zachariah had. “The seals are breaking faster than we can handle.” Castiel listened in silence as their council took place. It must have been her elongated exposure to humans that she felt odd not actually being able to see and touch them with her vessel’s senses. Their garrison was all over earth, eyes and ears open and swords ready. Castiel should not miss their closeness when she could actually hear and see and feel her brothers if only she just expanded her Grace. But she worried that they’d feel Dean’s child if it did not possess enough sense to not expose itself but hide within a part of her that was easier to conceal. And the curiosity the child had, rolling around and extending towards the conversation unless Castiel hushed it back so it clung to her wings instead was worrisome enough to not allow herself the entire connection. Her garrison must have felt that too, the layers of Grace she used to keep them out – so unangelic of her. But they didn’t comment it and whatever the reason, Castiel was grateful. She could not yet share God’s new plan with them.

“We are only to head out if they approach very dangerous seals, such that could harm us more than they would harm humans,” another brother spoke. “This is…”

“Odd,” Castiel agreed before her brother had to force it past his lips. Having doubts in their orders was like a nasty infection, painful and potentially dangerous.

“Even if we alert those that call themselves hunters to the dangers, they are for the most part not capable of handling it. Many are lost in battles that we could have fought for them.”

“But those are our orders. No need for sentimentality, we’ve watched them die where only a small amount of help would have changed their fate for the last 2000 years,” one of the older brothers said, but it was more in comfort than chastisement. “Castiel. This is your call.” Castiel sighed, a sound that did not make it through to her angelic voice and thus went unheard by her expectant brothers.

“It is in our duty to prevent our brother from getting out of his cage,” Castiel decided. “I will talk to Zachariah, but until you’ve heard back from me help when you notice a seal being attacked. Be careful.” With this Castiel withdrew from the conversation, sitting down onto a bench and folding her hands in front of her lips in deep contemplation.

* * *

 

The chance to actually speak to Zachariah didn’t present itself until three weeks later. Fresh out of a victorious battle for a seal – one she had deemed safe enough to not engage the help of either Winchesters or garrison – Castiel took a moment to herself. It was mostly out of necessity because the child had started stirring. Far away from the stains of the failed ritual’s magic, Castiel stood leaned against the side of an abandoned shed, looking over the unused pastures before her. The child was agitated, coiling around Castiel’s core before whirring out in random bursts of energy. It took hold of her wings again, its presence tingling the tips of Castiel’s feathers.

“What is the matter?” Castiel wondered, using her human voice but the soothing low rumble of her native tongue. Sam had told her that it would be good for her to talk to her child. She didn’t quite find it necessary, not when her Essence was open for the child to see and the sense of words would probably be lost on the unborn. Castiel had of course not voiced many reservations when Dean had taken her to the backseat of the Impala, making love to the low sound of his trusted tapes because “baby’s got to get to know the classics”. She could appreciate the background noise of people talking, of the Host singing praise, something which she missed dearly now that she could only hear it muted.

Soothing as speaking was Castiel didn’t actually expect any reaction to her question. She was therefore surprised when an answer came. Not in words of course, but in curves and waves, in energy and light and in the echoes of sound and emotion. She couldn’t help raising her hand to her stomach, feeling the physical warmth and shape of the growing child. It was afraid and longing to see its father. A surge of emotion went through Castiel when she understood that the child had taken up on how Castiel and Dean both felt at ease, taken care of and protected in each other’s company. That it would long for him when a battle had roused it was not even surprising.

Because her attention was elsewhere and she still had forced a shield of Grace up to keep the other angels from having access to her she almost missed the signs of Zachariah’s arrival. She pushed the child down, silencing its protest with a kiss of her Grace before it settled close to where Jamie was sleeping.

Even though she had no real reason to, she felt fear when Zachariah embraced her with a song of praise before appearing to her in his vessel, patting her shoulders. Castiel was sure that she kept the child’s soul well hidden, but Zachariah was bound to notice both the barrier she had put up against the free flow of her Grace and the rearrangement of her Essence towards her core. He didn’t comment on it though, showing her a close-mouthed smile.

“Castiel! Good to see you,” he said, taking a step away from her. Castiel knew her clothes were not tight-fitting and therefore partially concealed the evidence of her pregnancy, but she was still worried to see Zachariah’s eyes travelling over her form. “I see that you have done a good job of keeping Dean Winchester close to our cause.” Castiel tried not to feel a spike of panic at his words, attempting to ease her shock into puzzlement. Zachariah actually laughed, reaching out to straighten her collar. “His fingerprints are all over you, greasy and dulling your God-given beauty.” Even though Castiel knew that Dean had done nothing to corrupt her, that the touches of him had been applied with love and tenderness, she couldn’t help bowing her head in shame. For in the eyes of the Host she had debased her vessel and what was worse, herself. Angel and Man were not supposed to do what she had done. She reminded herself that even though the Host knew this to be true, she had received new orders from God, orders that could not have been carried out without giving her purity into the hands of Dean for him to reshape. “Hey! Nobody’s angry at you!” Zachariah assured her, but Castiel was still confused. She remembered that Zachariah had ordered her to keep her eyes on Dean, but she had not known that this involved sexual activity.

“So, how are things between Dean and you? Are you keeping him on a tight leash?” Castiel raised an eyebrow, unsure what to do with his question. But her superior didn’t need an answer, supplying another question. “Do you think you have an emotional influence over him?”

“I… In a manner,” Castiel answered cautiously.

“We require Dean to stand on Heaven’s side if the time comes to fight Lucifer,” Zachariah answered and Castiel lowered her eyebrows at his wording. Zachariah smiled when he noticed. “Doubts, Castiel?”

“Not doubts,” she answered promptly, worry gnawing at her again, “but I do not understand. I know that Dean is the Righteous Man who can end the battle, but the seals-“

“Don’t worry about the seals, Castiel,” Zachariah told her, voice friendly, but there was something sharp underneath it.

“But-“ The other angel lifted a finger, stopping the words of protest. Her superior’s expression was not so friendly now, even though he kept smiling at her.

“I am aware that you have ordered your garrison to redouble its efforts on the seals, but you know that I gave orders of my own.” Castiel bowed her head at that in deference and as she didn’t say anything Zachariah grinned at her, obviously pleased with her lack of arguments. “You are a good soldier, Castiel, and an even better strategist. I have seen what you can and will do upon Heaven’s orders and I believe you are to be trusted.” Castiel nodded at him, still grateful for his praise, even though something within her recoiled. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was that made her feel upset with Zachariah.

“Thank you,” she said humbly.

“You are, however, too soft, Castiel. While exposure to Dean Winchester was necessary, he does have a strong influence on your judgment. Your Grace… It has a human quality to it that is worrisome. Humans are volatile and I have no need for you to become a liability.”

“I…” Castiel started, but she was too surprised by Zachariah’s chastisement to come up with more.

“This is what you’ll do, Castiel,” Zachariah told her, voice friendly, but the hands he now put on her shoulders were like lead. “You tell your garrison to keep to my orders and then you’ll return to Dean and keep him entertained and busy until we call upon him to step up to his destiny.”

“Yes,” Castiel answered as Zachariah’s Grace pushed against her almost menacingly.

“If I need to worry about your loyalties then I will pull you back to Heaven to _rectify_ it.” Even though Castiel did not know what fate would await her if she proved herself to be faulty (and she was, she had changed so much and only the unprecedented nature of her change kept her brothers blind to it) she couldn’t risk leaving her vessel.

“I understand. I did not aspire to go against Heaven’s wishes,” she said, lowering her head again in apology even as she tensed up. And she didn’t, she did want to carry out God’s orders and Zachariah did the same. They had the same goal, but… Then why did Castiel feel that Zachariah was wrong? Why did she feel that Heaven’s orders were wrong? She shivered involuntarily but Zachariah must have taken it as horror at imagining going against her orders. He patted her cheek but it was too rough to be anything else than patronizing.

“Sure you don’t, you’re a loyal soldier,” Zachariah reminded her, “so stand back, keep Dean occupied and _wait_.” Castiel wanted to ask for what, but Zachariah beat her to it with a grin. “It won’t be long,” he told her, then he gave a mock of a salute and left.

Castiel was shaken by this short encounter, unfurling her wings and fleeing somewhere she could think. For one moment where she was soaring through the tapestry of the mortal plane, she felt the urge to just unfold, burst out of her vessel and ascend into the warmth of the Host. She wanted this gnawing doubt to stop, but above all she wanted clarity. She felt wrong because she needed to hide, wrong because she feared Zachariah, wrong because she assumed there was a stark difference between God’s plans and what Zachariah ordered her to do. But the Host worked on God’s plans, so why should there be a conflict of actions? She didn’t understand, frustration digging its claws into her composure and she landed down hard, probably causing ripples in the flow of Grace that connected all the earthbound angels. But in that moment she didn’t care, withdrawing instantly without even alerting her garrison that Zachariah’s orders should be followed again. A small rebellion but a rebellion nevertheless.

She was standing on a pier and night had fallen in this part of the earth, the lights around the harbor reflecting on the dark waters. She leant against the railing, lowering her face into her hands in exasperation.

Watching and waiting had never been an issue to Castiel before, but she had decided to act after the Winchesters had asked her three months ago. Castiel lowered her hands when she felt the baby come back to awareness where it had been sheltered in the comfort of Jamie’s soul. It was still somewhat upset and the body itself kicked out. Castiel had always been able to feel the motions of the fetus when she paid attention, but it’d become easier to feel the more weeks passed. She sighed, swaying lightly on her feet in an attempt to soothe it.

“Castiel…” Castiel turned her head, not moving away from the railing, seeing Anna stand a few feet away, just out of a streetlamp’s light. Anna was very good at shielding herself from the Host and Castiel was not surprised that she had only perceived Anna when she flew in.

“It is dangerous to be here, Anna… You could be found,” Castiel told her, taking in Anna’s appearance. She still wore her human body, her Essence shining bright inside of her, but her Grace’s flow was erratic. It filled Castiel with compassion, knowing that Anna had cut herself off from the Host because she did not want to return to it. Castiel wondered if that had to be her fate too one day or if she could deliver the child, stop the apocalypse from happening and return to how things were before. Anna stepped closer, passing under the light. Castiel could see the look on her face; a poorly guarded mix of caution and worry.

“No… You conceal yourself well, Castiel… But I wonder why… You’re still a good little, flawless soldier, why should you feel the need to hide yourself?” There was a minimal amount of teasing in her voice, but Castiel was not angry. The child’s soul gave sparks of recognition when Anna came close enough for her Grace to touch Castiel’s. It had no inhibitions, no fear, not like with Zachariah, but that probably was a reflection of Castiel’s own emotive response to her siblings. Maybe she shouldn’t trust Anna, Anna had fallen out of selfish reasons. “Castiel?” Castiel sighed and turned around, reaching behind her to hold on to the cool steel of the railing. It was anchoring her when she felt so torn. Anna walked up to her, gently brushing her wings against Castiel and Castiel let her. If she felt the wrongness in her, then so be it. But Anna didn’t, she was nothing but warmth. It had only been a bit more than 20 years, but Castiel had missed her, she realized it now.

“You feel human emotions,” Anna observed, but there was no judgment in her voice, just pleased awe, “Dean Winchester has had more of an impact on you than I thought. I am glad that his soul left its mark on you… There is hope for you yet.” Castiel was sure that the last was meant as gentle teasing, but she still sighed.

“Anna, I’m worried…” she confessed and her sister nodded.

“You should be. Things have been strange. Seals breaking too easily, our garrison is agitated.” Castiel remained silent, unsure how much she should confide in Anna. Should she voice her doubts? Her fears? Should she tell her of God’s aid, an aid that took a fundamentally different direction than they seemed to be headed at now?

Anna however took a step closer to Castiel and soon her hands were on Castiel’s upper arm. Castiel’s vessel was a good ten years older than Anna’s, but there still was an authority blazing in her eyes that came from Anna being her elder. Not even the state of her or the years she had spent as a mortal could change that. Castiel found her eyes directed to the floor, feeling shame at Anna’s searching gaze. A gaze that had landed on her midsection but Anna was not looking much deeper than her skin.

“Your Vessel… It’s pregnant,” she stated in wonder, “how can that be? You cannot ask consent from two souls inhabiting one body.” Castiel felt apprehension, but for some reason she was not that opposed to the idea of Anna knowing. She couldn’t be, not when the child demanded Anna to acknowledge it with little flares. Anna must have felt it because her eyes widened and the hold on Castiel’s arms slipped for a moment before Anna put her hands on the side of Castiel’s face. “Tell me,” she whispered, her eyes wide and her expression awed. Castiel lowered her eyes.

“It is I that has become pregnant,” she confessed and Anna drew in a sharp breath. Whatever outrage Castiel had expected, it didn’t come. Anna must have retained enough of her mortal life to utter a shriek and fold Castiel into a tight embrace. Castiel assumed it was somewhat of an expected female human reaction to pregnancy.

“How can it be? I have seen and slayed Nephilim. This is not one,” Anna said breathlessly as she let Castiel go again to study her. “Her body is human, but the soul… It’s… different. How could you even generate a soul, Castiel!” Anna tilted her head, trying to make sense of the situation and Castiel was glad that it was as overwhelming to Anna as it had been to Castiel. “I always knew you were special, but… What exactly are you?” Castiel couldn’t help a small smile, even though the question stung. Because she had ceased to be an angel in the eyes of Anna, but was something else, something with no name. At least Anna did not call her an abomination, even if the Host might differ in its evaluation should it finally see the change.

“I don’t know… But the child… it is a miracle.” Anna blinked at her in surprise.

“A miracle…,” she repeated, her voice not above a whisper and Castiel nodded. Anna folded her hands together, touching her fingertips to her forehead in an imitation of human prayer. It felt wonderful, Castiel decided, to see Anna’s fractured faith mending.

“Anna,” Castiel said, reaching out her hand to put it to Anna’s shoulder. “If you are willing… I would be honored to have you assist us.” Anna seemed surprised and humbled, but also confused.

“Us?”

“The Winchesters and I…” Anna wasn’t surprised to hear that, but maybe she had expected a bigger group of people conspiring. Castiel wasn’t even sure if they were conspiring, but they were not exactly doing what Zachariah had asked of her. They were waiting, but they weren’t inactive. Anna nodded though, smiling at Castiel.

“I will try to assist as much as I can. I am glad that you’re making a stand. One that God Himself seems to have acknowledged. Tell me what I can do.”

Castiel told her the same as Dean had told her 3 months ago; do a little digging.

* * *

 

Dean frowned at her and radiated waves of displeasure and relief when Castiel met him the next time. He was sitting outside of a small coffee shop, but Dean jumped up at once when she arrived.

“Jesus Christ! Where were you?!” Dean demanded, touching her as if checking for injuries and even though his expression was angry he did pull her into an embrace when he found her to be unharmed.

“Fighting…,” Castiel answered and Dean shook his head, but then he ushered Castiel towards the door of the coffee shop. Dean ordered pie, tea and a sandwich for her, another coffee for him and made Castiel sit at one of the empty tables while he waited for their order. Castiel could still pick up on the wall of frustration that surrounded Dean and she was sorry to be its cause. Even though there were more important things than constantly staying within Dean’s sight and reach.

“Where is Sam?” Castiel wondered when Dean returned, placing her food in front of her. He grabbed the chair opposite her and Castiel wasn’t sure why she was slightly bothered by that.

“Banging his demon chick,” Dean growled in reply, sipping at his coffee. Castiel frowned at that.

“Why?” Dean laughed at that, a dark and humorless sound that prompted Castiel to elaborate on her thought: “I did not mean to inquire about his need for sexual release. It is the fact he meets her still that unsettles me.”

“Yeah, preaching to the choir, Cas. I don’t trust her one bit, but Ruby came through for us more than once and it’s Sam’s call who he wants to get it on with. I can’t exactly tell him not to get it on with supernatural chicks if that’s what he feels like doing.”

“My intentions towards you are not harmful,” Castiel assured him, feeling a slight edge of sadness at his words. Dean shook his head and drank his coffee before replying to her.

“I trust _you_ , Cas. I don’t trust angels because there’s some secret agenda behind everything you do. But I chose to take the leap and put my faith in you,” Dean said and it was with a strong voice even though his face was shy and uncertain. “And Sam does the same with Ruby…”

“But demons and angels-,” Castiel argued, but got interrupted by Dean.

“I know, Cas. Limited human perspective speaking here,” he said and Castiel lowered her head, nibbling at her sandwich.

“The demon called Ruby… She led Sam onto a path I do not approve of. He doesn’t need to expose himself to demonic activity anymore...,” Castiel said and Dean raised an eyebrow at her.

“It’s probably just sex…,” Dean told her and Castiel wrinkled her nose but didn’t say anything about it. It was true that the last time she’d met Sam, the scent and stain of demonic blood was faint on him. He had smelled like that demon had and she assumed that she had been feeding him her own corrupted blood. But maybe Dean was right, maybe Sam sought nothing but physical comfort in his demon lover. “We’ll give him detention when it turns out they’ve been doing naughty things.” Dean said this with a certain amount of humor Castiel couldn’t quite understand, but she nodded.

While she finished her food she felt Dean getting restless, eager to leave or speak. She raised her eyes, looking at him but Dean busied himself with his empty coffee cup. He was quick to leave the coffee shop behind once Castiel was done and got her into his car.

“Welcome back by the way,” Dean said, reaching over the bench and pressing a kiss to Castiel’s lips, “where were you anyway?”

“I was protecting seals and telling my garrison to do the same, even though Zachariah’s orders were to stand back.” Dean lifted his eyebrow and looked at her despite the fact that he should be looking at the road.

“That old dick! Why would he tell you to stand back?” Castiel gave a shake of her head. Dean was silent for a moment, driving effortlessly through the traffic. “You just told your garrison to fight anyway? Isn’t that a blatant disregard of orders? I thought that was pretty high up in the no-go list of heaven. Why did they listen to you?”

“Because I’m their captain,” Castiel answered in mild confusion. Dean looked at her, eyes widened in surprise, but then the motel came into view and he had to focus on safely parking his car. But once they were static he turned around in his seat to look at Castiel.

“You’re their boss?” Castiel tilted her head. “Honestly?” Dean whistled. “I didn’t know you were so high-ranking! I sure got myself a badass angel!”

“I’m not particularly high-ranking, Dean,” Castiel assured him, getting out of the car and into the chill of the early evening air. Dean studied her shortly, but then he guided her to his motel room. Dean opened the door for her and took off her overcoat once she was inside. The room looked like any motel room they’d been in, maybe a bit cleaner. Castiel did not have any taste as far as décor was concerned so she did not know how to judge the clean geometrical patterns on wall and bed sheets. Dean took her by the shoulders and turned her around.

“Okay, captain angel, let me get a look at you,” he said and Castiel was slightly taken aback by the fondness in his voice. His palms glided down her shoulders and her chest to settle against her stomach. Instantly the child was awake again, dancing in sparks against where Dean touched, stirring its body into motion as well. Dean gave a surprised gasp to feel the heel of his child’s foot connect with his palm while Castiel wondered if the child’s essence had started to connect to its body. “Hey baby, did you miss me?”

“It did,” Castiel supplied, “earlier today it was unsettled and wished for your presence.” Dean beamed up at her, his joy graspable to her without any barriers. Castiel was truly awed, wondering when Dean had become so expressive and accepting of the miracle he had first resisted. Maybe it was something humans did, or maybe it was something the Winchesters did for family. Dean pulled Castiel close to him, putting pressure against the small of her back so their bodies were as close as possible. He kissed her forehead before resting his cheek against it, just feeling. The rest of the tension that had kept Dean alert and slightly wary left him.

“You shouldn’t keep away for weeks, Cas… You must be well into your sixth month now. Don’t endanger yourself and the kid…”

“Dean… I’m not human… I can still fight long past any limits human females might have,” she assured him, but the warmth of the child’s joy did affect her too.

“Hm… Just trust me on this one, Cas… I can’t always worry about you and I do, no matter how awesome you are.” Castiel smiled at that, turning her head to kiss Dean.

“I understand,” she assured him, then she put her arms around his shoulders, breathing in his scent and love. He took the chance to kiss her back, long and famished kisses but still gentle, carrying none of the urgency that usually accompanied Dean’s spurs of passion.

“So…,” Dean said, putting his fingers to Castiel’s lips gently, brushing his thumb along the lower lip. Castiel was slightly displeased that he had put a stop to their kissing and moved her lips against the pads of his fingers. Dean took a shuddering breath, letting her tease his fingers with her mouth and tongue until he pulled her against him, one more firm and passionate kiss before he guided her to the bed. “I’m trying to have a conversation with you!” Castiel smiled at him, unsure why exactly it brought her joy to see him unguarded and in a slight flush.

“I apologize,” Castiel told him and Dean rolled his eyes, “what did you want to talk about?”

“I…,” Dean started and Castiel noticed how insecure he was, shy almost about the topic he wanted to address. “Do you think we have a good chance at surviving this mess?” he wondered, “I mean… I never quite had the luxury to plan for the future and maybe I still don’t…” Castiel looked at him in wonder, trying to make sense of the sudden reserve Dean felt about the words he spoke.

“We do, Dean. Please, make plans for your future,” she assured him but there was still a layer of worry over the shy hope she saw in his eyes. “Oh…” she voiced when she could pick apart his look and the emotions radiating off him. The gentle hold he had on her hand, thumb stroking the ring on her finger and the other closing around her stomach and the warmth of the child there. She still did not understand humans well, but she had observed humanity and human families for long enough to unravel the mystery of Dean’s hopes and fears. She searched for the right words to reassure him. “What I wish for your future, Dean,” Castiel started tentatively, trying out the words in her head and finding them to be right and true. “Is that you can be happy, unburdened by any plans Heaven has for you or your family…”

“Cas…”

“I don’t know humans well, so you might have to teach me… Like you will have to teach our daughter. How to walk, how to talk, how to sing your favorite songs.” Dean’s eyes were wide and open and his mouth opened and closed before he found his voice.

“A daughter? It’ll be a girl?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper and Castiel was quick to continue: “We can have a boy too, if you’d like.” Dean laughed at that, before he put his hands in her hair, tugging slightly to kiss her. She felt the curve of his lips against hers, swallowing the laughter on his breath and absorbing his joy and his warmth.

“It’s alright, Cas. Don’t fret - a daughter is perfect,” he assured her and Castiel realized that she had been fearful of his reaction. The child was just like she had used to be, pure energy, pulsating with love and purpose. Genderless, barrier-less. But its physical shell had matured into one of a little girl and Castiel had almost forgotten that this was important to humans until Anna had mentioned it in passing.

“Yes?” she asked and Dean lowered her to the bed, gliding down her body to kiss her stomach.

“Yes,” he assured her and Castiel caught a glimpse of Dean’s expanding imaginations and hopes. “She’ll be perfect.” He looked up at her, still rubbing soothing circles on her stomach, and smiled. Castiel smiled back.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter in this first part! It's rather short...
> 
> Thanks to Esmerod for beta-ing!

When Dean was informed of Anna’s knowledge of their growing child he spent a long moment between wariness and relief. His decision about Anna’s involvement had still been pending when Castiel left for a brief skirmish about a potential seal that turned out to be nothing more but a few teenagers messing around with potentially dangerous spells.

After a relatively short absence, Castiel reappeared right into a heated argument between the Winchesters. Castiel reeled back instinctively and both stopped shouting at once, even though the air in the small motel room felt electrically charged. The brothers’ agitation felt like it swamped the entire room, pressing in on Castiel and erecting an impenetrable wall of anger and frustration around both of them. And then… the aura…

“Sorry, sorry. I know, shouting isn’t good for the baby’s psychological development or something,” Dean said with a snort, pointing his finger at Sam, who glared at him, “but this isn’t over, Sam!” Castiel’s eyes were on Sam even when Dean circled her to check for non-existent injuries. Sam must have noticed her wide-eyed stare, because he averted his eyes and withdrew, letting himself fall into an armchair and trying to be small and invisible even though he was still seething with anger and frustration at Dean.

Castiel saw and felt the taint on him. It was fresh and potent, demonic power circulating through his body and clouding her view of his bright soul. The stench of blood was incredibly strong on him and she wondered how Sam could even stand it.

“Hey, hey, Cas?” Dean put his hands on Castiel’s cheeks, drawing her attention back to him. He was worried and when Castiel’s eyes bored into his, he huffed in relief and leant in to kiss her. “You’re okay.”

“Yes, I’m okay,” she replied when Dean let go of her, always awkward when someone else could see him being tender with her. Castiel could feel his affection and the relief, not only from him but also spreading from within her. But this was not the time to get lost in those surprisingly pleasant emotions.

“You are both agitated,” she observed and the two tensed at once.

“I thought shouting was bad for your baby?” Sam tried feebly but Dean lowered his eyebrows and Sam gave up. “Yeah, because Dean’s being unreasonable!”

“Oh? Am I?! You used your powers! I thought we’ve been clear about it that you don’t get to use them!”

“I didn’t! I didn’t for a long time, okay?!” Sam shouted, “but I could now and you were in trouble. I won’t apologize that I kept you alive!” Dean wanted to argue about that, but Sam threw his hands up, pointing at Castiel, “you’re a Dad now, Dean! You can’t wish to jeopardize your life just to make a point against me using my powers!!” Castiel watched Dean take a defensive step backwards and throwing her a side-way glance.

“I wasn’t making a point, Sam! And I’m glad that I’m alive, but I don’t want you to-“ he was looking for words and judging by Sam’s wide-eyed expression whatever Dean had been about to say could go very wrong. Both brothers knew it and Dean looked at Castiel as if pleading for help. She frowned, but put her hand on Dean’s shoulder. The relief that washed over her from Dean was immense. Sam on the other hand tried to sink further back into the cushion of the armchair.

“Sam… We talked about this before…,” she told him quietly and Sam lowered his eyes. “I can feel the demon blood within you, Sam…”

“That’s just not fair,” he mumbled and Castiel frowned in confusion. But apparently it had been directed at Dean who shrugged with a small smile, but he was still tense. “Look, Cas… I know, but I can’t just… It’s not like I want to use it… But you weren’t there and Dean was in danger…”

“That’s not the point,” Castiel said and Sam looked at her with an open-mouthed expression, before his face closed off. “I understand trying to use every weapon you have. But you didn’t have it the last time we spoke about it.”

“What?” Dean wondered and Castiel frowned at him.

“The demon blood,” she said, but before she could say more Sam was up and had his hand around her wrist. Whereas Dean had just been confused before he was alarmed now.

“Cas, please,” Sam hissed and Castiel looked at him in surprise. She had expected Dean to be well informed of Sam’s dangerous habit of imbibing demon blood. But it seemed to her that Sam had kept that a well-guarded secret from his brother.

“What’s going on?” Dean demanded to know and got between them, glaring up at Sam. “Is there something you two aren’t telling me?” Even though most of Dean’s anger and suspicion was directed at Sam, Castiel felt no small portion of fear and frustration aimed at her.

“I was under the impression that you knew of it,” Castiel replied honestly and Dean shot her a look. “Sam… This is something you should discuss with your brother.”

“So there’s more to it? More to Sam having the Yellow Eyed bastard’s blood in his veins? Are you trying to tell me that?”

“I’m not trying to tell you anything!” Sam argued.

“If you won’t, I will, Sam… This is not the time for your brother’s self-righteous anger.” Dean glared at her, but right now his irritation with her didn’t faze her.

“You don’t understand, Cas!” Sam argued, but she could already see the fight going out of him to be replaced by crippling fear. Her eyes softened and she stepped away from Dean to put her hands on Sam’s shoulder.

“I understand that you fear that what you do is turning you into something monstrous in Dean’s eyes,” she whispered, loud enough for Dean to hear should he wish to listen in. “It isn’t yet... I see that there’s a certain desperation within you.” Sam listened quietly, but after a while he nodded, he didn’t say anything though.

“What is it? Care to share, guys?” Dean pressed, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Sam’s ability wanes in accordance to the amount of demon blood within his system,” Castiel explained when it became clear to her that Sam wouldn’t speak. Dean lifted an eyebrow. “That means when he drinks the blood of demons his power will surge. You’ve seen what Sam can do if he drinks enough.” Castiel watched the change in Dean, how his face opened up, his eyes widening only to close back down in horror. He finally settled on anger, but Castiel could feel that it was only to mask his fear.

“You’re getting juiced up on demon blood?!” he shouted and Sam flinched back, “it’s Ruby, isn’t it?! She makes you do that! I’m going to kill that bitch!” Castiel raised her hand and put it to Dean’s mouth.

“Dean… Don’t… I know you’re afraid. Don’t lash out at Sam with anger… It’s not going to help him,” she assured him and Dean instantly deflated. He took a few steps back until his legs hit the bed and sat down. He groaned, covering his face with his palms.

“Why are you doing that, Sam? Drinking demon blood?” he asked after a while.

“I had no choice. I had to be strong enough to fight Lilith…,” Sam said and Castiel stepped back to let the two of them talk.

“You have a choice not to now, Sam. We have an alternative. Killing Lilith is not our endgame,” Dean reminded him, his voice tired but steady. The younger Winchester shook his head, not in a disagreeing way. “If you know, then why do you drink it?”

“I can’t…,” Sam started, but his voice faded before he could finish and he lowered his head until most of his face was concealed by the bangs falling into it.

“You can’t stop?” Sam nodded and Dean uttered a hissed curse. “So you’re addicted to it?”

“When I don’t drink it… I feel hollow, useless, powerless… I tried not to anymore after Castiel chose to help us… But… I couldn’t…” Sam winced, a wounded sound high in his throat and shook his head. Dean cast a worried look up at Castiel.

“Is there anything you know? Anything you can do?”

“I can’t do anything against the demon blood. I cannot cleanse him of it. Even if he uses it all up, the changes within him that Azazel caused will remain,” Castiel explained. “Demon blood is addicting, it makes both your body and your mind crave for it. If you drink it, it taints you… You need to stop, but I don’t know how to help.” Dean sighed deeply and got up, rubbing his hands.

“I guess we’ll just have to do it the human way,” Dean said and Sam looked up at him. “We’ll have to keep you from drinking it at all costs and burn it out of you.” Sam shook his head, clearly as confused as Castiel felt. She had seen a lot of humans under the influence of various substances, but she wasn’t familiar with ways to stop it. Dean shrugged into his coat. “Come on, we need to get to Bobby’s.”

“Dean… What do you want to do?” Sam asked, reluctantly standing and letting himself be shoved to his duffel back. Dean smiled at him, thin and hollow.

“We’ll lock you up.”

* * *

 

Castiel shook with the worry Dean projected as Sam’s screams reached out from behind heavy doors. Dean had long since given up on trying to keep his vigil outside of Bobby Singer’s panic room. Castiel knew that the room itself was an admirable construction, created to defend against demons and ghosts, but it wouldn’t hold against angels. And neither was it built to trap someone.

Bobby had let both brothers in, listened to Dean’s account of why Sam had to be locked in and didn’t ask any questions after Sam had assured him he would do so willingly. Dean was currently turning a beer around in his hands that had assumed the warm temperature of the kitchen they sat in. Castiel knew that his thoughts were circling around the issue of Sam. His worry and a strong undercurrent of unfocused anger agitated Castiel and she slowly brushed both palms down her stomach. Since the child was slowly but surely slipping into its developing body, Castiel had found that the physical contact was calming its essence as well. It also helped her to focus when the distraction of the baby’s squirming stopped.

“So.” Castiel looked up and saw Bobby wander into the kitchen, a book in one hand and a glass of some alcoholic beverage in the other. His focus fell on Castiel and there was an expectant and distrustful weight in his gaze that made Castiel stop her soothing gestures. He stood with his hip leant against the table and looked at Dean just briefly. Dean pointedly ignored him, focusing on turning the bottle around in his fingers with a petulant expression. Bobby decided to fill the silence with new words when they could hear Sam’s screams again. “Castiel. Good to meet you again.” He put both book and glass down and the loud noise stirred Dean into a small curse before he looked up to catch Castiel’s eyes. He frowned, then he made some sort of grimace Castiel really didn’t know how to read.

“Yes,” she answered calmly, slowly taking her eyes off Dean to look at the older hunter. Castiel waited for more, but Bobby relapsed into a tense silence that filled the entire kitchen once again. Until Dean finally uttered a groan.

“Come on Bobby, just say it!” he hissed and Bobby shot him a chastising glare, but then he turned back to the confused Castiel.

“Don’t speak in that tone with me, boy!” Bobby warned and Castiel couldn’t help a wince escaping her when a sudden spark of the girl’s agitation and worry hit her as Bobby’s voice resounded in the kitchen. Why her less pleasant feelings were now expressing themselves in flares of metaphysical _and_ physical pain, Castiel didn’t quite know, but it was very inconvenient.

“Bobby!” Dean hissed, rising and stepping over to Castiel’s place by the counters. He touched her elbow when she was rubbing her forehead with both hands. “Cas… Hey. Are you okay?” Castiel nodded and looked back at Bobby. His expression was torn between confusion and worry. “What was that?”

“She reacts upon the tension in this house…,” Castiel explained, then she took a moment to assess the state of the child. “I’ll be fine,” she decided. Dean sighed, then he turned towards Bobby.

“Okay, I actually have a shitload of things to say, but I’ll keep it short,” Bobby said, the suspiciousness Castiel heard in his voice also showing itself in way the skin around his eyes creased. Dean tensed again. “That one time you asked me to check up on Nephilim wasn’t for a Seal.” It wasn’t even a question, but Dean still felt compelled to answer with a shake of his head. “So we have a knocked up angel on our hands in addition to the Apocalypse looming over our heads?”

“You haven’t properly explained the situation to Bobby?” Castiel wondered and had both men look at her, Dean a bit embarrassed.

“I might have omitted certain details,” he confessed and Bobby threw up his hands in irritation.

“You don’t omit details when it’s about the freaking Apocalypse!” Bobby hissed right back at Dean who just raised his shoulders defensively. “When you told me the angel was figuring out a Plan b-“

“She is,” Dean interrupted him and Bobby fell silent, but still was annoyed, “I’m not kidding you.”

“You can’t possibly be fine with the concept of breeding a weapon!” Bobby slammed his fist on top of the book, “because that’s about what I got when looking at Nephilim again.” Dean opened his mouth in protest, but Bobby was faster. “Who did you talk into this?” Castiel was taken aback that the question was directed at her, with quite a lot of anger within Bobby’s eyes. She looked over at Dean and that seemed to have been enough for Bobby. “For-“ The older hunter was trying to channel his anger into sensible words, but was having a hard time of it. “You angels have used those boys like tools! You’ve demanded everything from them and now _this_?! Do you have any idea what you’re doing to them?! Don’t you care one bit?! A _baby_!” Castiel felt overwhelmed for a moment, Bobby’s anger, pain and desperation rushing over her with such force that she would have stumbled back if she could. But it only brought a shocked moisture to her eyes, appalled that Bobby could think so little of her. And even more appalled that she had given him all the reasons to.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Bobby,” Castiel heard Dean say and even though his voice was even she could feel the thundering heartbeat in his chest when Dean pulled her towards him. She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself from the sudden intensity of emotion. It was tiring, to feel the emotion of everyone reflected within her. She just wanted to curl up within Dean’s warmth for a moment and not care that she should not want that. God’s new task had made her alarmingly human. It took her a moment to realize that Dean was speaking to her.

“Cas, I’m sorry. We’re all tired and stressed…” Castiel looked up at him and Dean pressed a kiss to her lips, quickly and chaste, but very soft nonetheless and Castiel couldn’t help relaxing slightly. “I’ll explain to Bobby, why don’t you go upstairs and rest?” Castiel took a step away from Dean and tilted her head to the side.

“Very well,” she said and Dean wiped away the tears that still clung to her lashes. “But I will go look after Sam instead. You can call me when I’m needed.” She turned to look at Bobby and while she felt embarrassment at her reaction she did understand his agitation. She nodded at him and then she left the kitchen and reappeared next to Sam.

Sam didn’t look good at all, but his relief at seeing her was immense. She sat on the small bed and lifted her hand out to him. Sam climbed onto the bed and Castiel guided him downwards, so his head rested in her lap. The young man gave a small shudder, even though  he felt warmer than normal to her touch, then he turned his face to the side, the tip of his nose brushing the shirt over her stomach. It tickled when the child gave an almost sleepy spark of recognition.

“You’re doing well Sam…,” she told him, brushing his hair with her fingers, soothing both the younger Winchester and herself.

“It’s terrible, but a bit easier when you’re here,” Sam confessed and Castiel could only imagine the pains he felt. She still didn’t understand this addiction well, but Dean had explained the effects of normal, human withdrawal. It must be especially bad for Sam. She wished that this wasn’t necessary, but knew that her wishes in this were futile. And she couldn’t even do anything to cleanse the blood out of him, without actually burning him too in the process.

“Sleep now, Sam…” Castiel said and brushed her fingers against Sam’s forehead, easily pushing him into sleep.

And then she had time to think.

* * *

 

The soft call of her name roused Castiel out of a deep state of contemplation. She was still carding her fingers through Sam’s sweat soaked hair, trying to ease his nightmares into simple dreams. She left him with a kiss to his brow, then she reappeared where Dean had called from. It was an upper story bed-room. Dean was currently smoothing down the blanket and straightened when he noticed her.

“You’re not angry anymore,” was the first thing Castiel said. Dean snorted, but then he stepped over to Castiel and brushed the trenchcoat off her shoulders.

“I wasn’t angry at you,” he told her, kissing without hesitation now that the door was firmly closed. His hands brushed over all the skin he revealed in the process of undressing her. “Bobby’s sorry. He didn’t understand what was going on. He thought I was pressured into something.”

“Which you were,” Castiel reminded him, drawing away long enough to study Dean’s face. “I have thought about the things Bobby said.” Dean sighed and got into bed, motioning Castiel to follow. Castiel was indecisive for a moment, because she and Dean never really got to share a bed. Not after that one time in the hotel or the few stolen hours when Sam was out either giving them privacy or running errands. It was strange slipping into bed with him. He put his arm around her shoulder, inviting her to cushion her head on his chest. He was warm and gentle.

“Cas… I’m… fine…”

“I am glad,” she said and received a kiss to her hair, “but the fact remains that I conceived this child with the thought that it would be nothing more than a weapon. A tool or an ingredient to stop Lucifer from rising… I didn’t think of it as a child. I thought of it as the blood we needed.” She felt Dean tense next to her as she spoke these words, but even though he might react badly, he deserved to hear the truth.

“But you don’t now,” Dean stated, his voiced laced with hope and Castiel nodded.

“It’s been difficult… Angels aren’t supposed to carry children… They only carry weapons… But I know now… That it’s our child… Our daughter… That feels very significant.”

“It is significant, Cas,” Dean said and he sounded more than pleased and relieved. “It’s very significant.” Dean rolled them over, so that he was leaning over her very carefully. He was smiling at her and she tried to smile back. “I love you.” Her smile widened and she kissed him as his hands travelled down to rub circles on her stomach.

“I love you too, Dean,” she replied contently.

“I bet the baby in here does too. Right? She’ll be a spoilt little daddy’s girl.” Castiel wrinkled her brow and raised her head off the pillow to look at Dean kissing her stomach.

“Why do you say that? She is pure, why should-“

“Cas, seriously? I was talking about pampering her, not corrupting her,” Dean laughed against her skin and Castiel let her head drift back to the pillow.

“Oh. I see,” she said, the corners of her mouth rising. “That would certainly please her.” Dean moved upwards and gently nibbled at her lips, before he chuckled against them.

“Man… I can’t wait for this all to be over… I’ve got to start thinking about college funds and shit,” he said, rolling to his side and sighing. He didn’t sound particularly worried though, so Castiel closed her eyes and let her awareness spread. Past the sleepy hum of excitement and fear Dean radiated, past the walls to where Bobby turned around pages until the words blurred before his eyes, past the walls of iron to where Sam continued to sleep.

“A college fund?” Castiel inquired even though she knew this conversation would be cut short soon by the advent of Dean’s sleep. If the thoughts of his daughter’s future could ease Dean into slumber then she was fine with it.

“Money put aside… So she can go to school. Sweetie… is there angel school?”

“No, Dean, we learn everything  we are not equipped with at creation through communion with the Host,” Castiel told him, receiving a low hum in return.

“Hey Cas?” Castiel could tell Dean was more asleep than awake now, his eyes long closed and he turned towards her warmth, blindly throwing an arm over her to pull himself closer.

“Yes, Dean?”

“I’m gonna have to buy a car seat…” Castiel smiled and kissed his brow, feeling the whirl of thoughts just below the surface of his skin. They were pleasant, like warm rain. Castiel sent a secret prayer of thanks to her Father for allowing Dean this small amount of joy within the raging war around them. She vowed to preserve and nourish it in the days to come.

* * *

 

Sam, despite everybody’s best intentions, wasn’t recovering as fast as Castiel had expected. She blamed it on her limited understanding of detox as Dean had called it. But she knew that part of her augmenting state of restlessness was a side-effect of Dean’s and Bobby’s distress. Castiel soothed Sam as best as she could, but she was in no position to spend all of her time in Bobby’s fortified room, whispering gentler dreams into Sam’s nightmare plagued mind.

“I really need some heavenly assistance, Cas,” Dean spoke around the mouth of a beer bottle. He was standing in a shed where Bobby worked on cars, leaning against the wall. His voice sounded tired, thin and wet… quivering around the words with an emotion Castiel couldn’t quite place, but it was nothing good.

“I wish I could help you Dean… But it’s not within my power to heal Sam of this affliction,” Castiel reminded him and Dean snorted, tossing the beer away. The bottle burst on the floor a few feet away from them, the harsh sound loud in the evening air.

“Maybe your boss could,” Dean said morosely, but there was a hint of hope in his eyes when he turned to look at Castiel. She winced at that, an involuntary feeling of sadness sparking up inside of her.

“Maybe,” she said, not adding anything for a while. She should trust Zachariah blindly, but the way things were moving along – slipping too fast towards the end days – was disconcerting. He was merely watching and waiting. He knew things she didn’t know, which was to be expected considering their difference in rank, but she still felt like he was withholding important information pertaining to Dean.

“So why don’t we call him?” Castiel shook her head slowly, trying to figure out a way to explain her worries to Dean but coming up short. “Dammit Cas, Sam needs help!”

“I can’t, Dean,” Castiel told him sadly, “but I will talk to Anna. Maybe she can tell us something…” Dean didn’t say anything and just stared at his feet. Castiel slowly approached him, putting both of her hands on his chest. She straightened his shirt, brushing her palms over the fabric. “I’m sorry that I can’t be of use here.” Dean winced at that and grabbed her sides, pulling her into an almost bruising kiss. She tasted beer on his tongue and desperation on his mind. He turned them around, pinning Castiel to the wall of the shed and continued kissing her almost violently. Castiel lifted one hand and put it on Dean’s chest, easily pushing him away. Dean was panting, his composure shattered and eyes moist. Castiel gently moved forwards, capturing his lips in a chaste, but lingering kiss.

“I’m sorry… Sorry, Cas. Shit,” Dean hissed against her mouth and turned his face away. Castiel kissed his temple, pulling him closer again. “It’s just… It’s Sammy, Cas.”

“I know… I’ll try my best. I promise… Just don’t do anything reckless while I’m away,” she told him and Dean nodded, turning back to kiss her again.

“I hope this is over soon,” he sighed and brushed his hands up and down her hips. “I’m being a shitty boyfriend…”

“You’re a very good lover,” Castiel corrected, tilting her head when Dean chuckled at that. “What?”

“I’m sorry… I should take my mind out of the gutter.” Castiel raised an eyebrow, but then she put her arms around Dean’s neck.

“Why? I appreciate having sex with you,” she whispered in his ear, feeling the shiver pass through Dean.

“Uh… Wow, okay. So… I’m a bit drunk but this is happening, right? You’re seducing me in your own, very strange way,” Dean said and his eyes darted to the side where the Impala was parked.

“I know you are in a state of distress about your brother, so if this is ill-timed, I apologize,” Castiel said and Dean chuckled.

“No, you know what? I deserve a break. Let’s take this conversation to the backseat.” Castiel smiled.

* * *

 

Dean was avoiding Bobby Singer’s basement, lying in bed in an upstairs room where the sound of Sam’s screams no longer reached them. Castiel heard him, tossing and turning on his cot, moaning and screaming. She also heard Bobby pacing, looking through books for a way to help Sam. She shouldn’t be lying here, wrapped into Dean’s arms, but he was holding on to her. There wasn’t a lot of comfort to be found right now and Castiel allowed herself to take it where she could. There were still many battles to fight and her very own mission took its toll on her too.

Their moment of peace was interrupted by a dulled jolt going through her. Castiel rose at once and Dean almost jumped, but Castiel’s focus was not on him. “Uh… Cas?” She frowned and reached her hand to her forehead. It was uncomfortable, a sudden buzz in her ear that wouldn’t leave. She lowered her eyelids and lifted the muffling veil of Grace she had put over the constant hum of the Host. She almost staggered as the voices came back in full force. There they were, the voices of her brothers singing, praising, talking but there was something else… A… whisper. She widened her eyes and blinked them a few times in rapid succession.

“Cas! Hey! What’s wrong?!” It was Dean’s concerned voice and his fingers closing around her vessel’s arms in a tight grip.

“There is something going on… I hear my superiors talking… I need to see Anna.” She looked at Dean, her eyes wide and uncertain.

“O… okay,” Dean replied and kissed her. “Just take care.” Castiel nodded, then she left.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fashionably late for the last chapter of part 1! It's been a great pleasure and I was positively surprised to receive feedback! Thank you!
> 
> As always; thanks to Esmerod for the beta work!

Castiel flung herself through the spheres, trying to pinpoint Anna’s well-hidden Grace. But she was fortunate, locating a little burst of energy that was unmistakably her sister’s signal. She rushed into Anna’s open arms the moment she materialized, feeling her fingers grip her vessel’s upper arms. It was disconcerting, that almost painful awareness of a body around her again, of organs and blood and bones and a gulf of membranes between her and the human world. She tried to pull a layer of Grace over herself, to ease the weight within and around her, but it came sluggishly to her, almost as if she had forgotten how to be more human just by opening herself up.

“Castiel, I have heard things! Whispers I am sure I was not supposed to learn!” Anna said with an almost desperate urgency and Castiel nodded, trying to overcome the distraction. She had heard them too, but had not been able to decipher them. “The seals, they are breaking,” she continued, “and Zachariah will not stop them!”

“He has told the Garrison to stand back, that is true,” Castiel answered after a while, unnerved even when the voices of the Host were silenced again to a low murmur. Anna was shaking her head, taking Castiel’s hands into her own. They were warm and slick; there was blood on her hands. “What is happening, Anna?”

“The Apocalypse,” Anna said, her voice wavering, “Heaven wants it to happen.” Castiel widened her eyes.

“Surely, you are mistaken!” she replied almost too fiercely, but Anna held on fast to her hands, squeezing them.

“No, Castiel! Heaven is not what you think it is! Our Father is not there! Its Will is not His Will! Believe me, Castiel! You see the signs all around you!” Castiel felt panic in her heart, unable to reconcile her fears with the truth. She had thought herself foolish to believe, faulty even. Only one tainted could suspect and doubt Heaven and its orders. Like Anna. Now her too.

A hand on her stomach and a sudden flare of airy light within her called her back from her swirling thoughts and she found Anna staring at her imploringly.

“Please, Cas,” she said softly, “you know what is right. You know that God is on your side.” Castiel took a deep breath and nodded, which made Anna lower her hand.

“What can we do, Anna?”

“I don’t know… We need to prevent the Apocalypse at any cost… It is not what our Father wanted. He wouldn’t have blessed you otherwise,” Anna told her and Castiel closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to hear the voices of the Garrison.

“Almost all seals are broken, we cannot protect them at this point,” Castiel said helplessly, a heavy weight resting in her chest. “Things are progressing too swiftly.” Castiel put her hands on her stomach, swollen but not ready. Not yet. The child still clung to her feathers, almost as if it was afraid to let go and slip into a physical body. It was a fear Castiel could relate too.

“We need to prevent the last seal from being broken,” she heard Anna say and Castiel looked at her. “It’s Lilith, Cas,” she explained.

“I don’t-,” Castiel stopped herself in mid-sentence, horrified understanding silencing her. Suddenly she knew and she looked over to Anna, trying to figure out if she had received the same revelation. Anna’s wide eyes and the urgent look on her face were answer enough. “Lilith _is_ the last seal…,” Castiel spoke into the silence between them, “if she dies, Lucifer walks free.”

“Lilith is strong, but if she is willing to lay down her life to free Lucifer…,” Anna said in a worried tone. “This sounds preposterous, but we have to make sure Lilith isn’t killed before we’ve found a way to seal the Cage.” Her sister turned an expectant gaze upon Castiel. “Protecting a demon, can’t be too bad. There aren’t that many fools trying to hunt Lilith.” Castiel sighed at that.

“The Winchesters are… But Dean won’t do anything reckless until-“ the rest of her sentence was swallowed by the sound of wings heralding the arrival of her brothers. Quickly Castiel turned to Anna who had her eyes widened in horror. “Flee!” she said because other than Castiel Anna was a sought after traitor. If Zachariah hadn’t figured out Castiel’s division of sympathies then she would be fine for a while longer. “Go!” Castiel shouted when Anna hesitated just a while longer. She was glad that Anna was gone by the time Zachariah, accompanied by two other brothers, arrived.

Zachariah righted his suit jacket, a smile on his lips while the others stood back. He cocked his head, first looking around the open space, then his eyes came to rest on Castiel. His smile only widened.

“Dearest sister, care to tell me what exactly you’re doing in 14th century Italy? Surely not sight-seeing,” Zachariah said with a laugh, gesturing at the empty field around them. If he noticed the remnants of Anna’s Grace, fast fading splatters of energy that Castiel had tried to absorb, he didn’t let anything on.

“I felt something… A disruption of the voices of the Host,” Castiel replied steadily. So far it was still the truth, but she would try to lie if necessary. It was not a skill she was particularly good at, she preferred to omit details, like all of her brethren. Zachariah raised his eyebrows, the expression on his face still pleasant even as he took a few steps towards her.

“Really?” Castiel decided to remain calm and nod. She saw Zachariah’s eyes study her and felt him prodding her experimentally, nothing invasive yet, nothing that sank any deeper to draw out her secrets. “What about?”

“I am not entirely sure,” Castiel told him and almost jerked back when Zachariah placed a heavy hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, you can confide in me. If there’s something you think I should know about, then you have to tell me, right? Little wayward sister?” Castiel lifted her eyes and met Zachariah’s.

“Heaven wants to bring about the apocalypse,” she stated and Zachariah’s smile widened. So it was true then. Castiel hoped that the shock and fear she started to feel weren’t visible on her face. “That’s why you told the Garrison to not interfere with the seals.”

“Correct,” her brother said, almost with an air of pride, but the hold on her shoulder grew stronger, grinding bones until they cracked. “I always knew you were a bright one!” Castiel wasn’t sure how to react, especially not when he released her to mend her broken bones and studied her instead. “But I need to know, Castiel, if you are still with us. You are righteous, more righteous than many of us. You are an asset to Michael’s side. Especially now that we are so close to the end times.”

“You want Michael and Lucifer to battle? That will-“ Castiel was stopped by one of Zachariah’s wings brushing against her lips. It was an intimate gesture, intimate but patronizing. It was nothing she wasn’t used to by her older siblings and superiors. It had never caused her anger, but now she almost felt defiant enough to frown at him. But only almost – she knew that her chances to get out of this alive depended on playing Zachariah’s game.

“We’re just following the big plan. Our brothers are destined to fight. Why delay it another couple of millennia when everything can be resolved right now?” Zachariah asked and took his wing away. “But I need you, Castiel, to not waver. You know your duty, don’t you?” Castiel lifted her eyebrow. “You’re not doubting Heaven, are you?”

“God’s decisions are just. I trust in His decree,” she replied promptly, but both of them knew that she did have doubts and that she did worry.

“That is good, because we need you to be there for Dean Winchester. He has an important role to play, so we better keep him occupied and entertained while we wait for the big battle,” he said and Castiel shook her head in incomprehension. Dean was the Righteous Man, of course he had an important role to play. Was there more to what Zachariah was saying?

“And that is what you need me for?” Castiel asked doubtfully. Before she could say more Zachariah put a heavy hand on her shoulder again and she found herself transported to a beautifully fashioned room. It was distorted, a space closer toHheaven, but squeezed into the tight confines of the mortal plane. This, Castiel realized with no small amount of shock, was the closest she had been to Heaven since man started walking on Earth and she’d been dispatched to the Garrison on Michael’s orders. Zachariah must have realized the nostalgia-like emotion that had seized her.

“Won’t you be glad Castiel? Once this is over there is no more need to watch humanity. You can finally go back home. I’m sure you miss it,” he said, drawing his fingers through Castiel’s messy hair. “How long has it been? Since you’ve fully unfolded? Since you had breathed in the Grace of Heaven instead of relying on that diminished thread that still links you to home?” Castiel didn’t say anything and Zachariah put his hands on her shoulder, turning her around quickly. His face was seized by an almost violent emotion, so close to righteous anger that Castiel couldn’t help the rising sympathy for her upset brother. “You must be _famished_! You must be tired of this!” There was nothing she could say since there was truth in his words. “This is the time to end it! Michael’s vessel will be ready, if you can just get him to submit to Heaven’s Will.” Castiel widened her eyes. “Ah, you understand.”

“You’re talking about Dean?” she managed to ask and received a nod in return. Castiel averted her eyes, staring at the floor and thinking quickly. That Dean was Michael’s vessel was unexpected and came as a surprise. But in the end it didn’t change anything. She wasn’t planning on letting Lucifer walk out of his cage. No matter how much she missed Heaven, she knew that she had a more important task. This was not the time to be selfish.

“Don’t make that unhappy face, Castiel, it’s unsightly,” Zachariah told her and Castiel couldn’t help straightening. “With you, sister, we can get his consent! You already have him wrapped around your little finger, now you just need to know what to do with the power you hold over him.”

“I fear you overestimate my impact on him. I am not sure I can get him to swear allegiance to Heaven,” Castiel told him slowly. Her breath hitched when Zachariah circled her, pressing close to her back with his hands reached around her sides. He might have chosen to appear to her in a human vessel, but she felt his glory burn underneath his skin. She felt the weight of six wings press down on her and his many eyes focus on her. His fingers glided over the fabric covering her stomach and she felt naked, stripped off her clothes, her vessel and her Grace. He prodded gingerly and she pressed down the child’s startled reaction with all of her might. Forcing it down, down, back into its kicking body and away from where Zachariah could touch.

“Funny little creatures, aren’t they? To care so much about family,” he said, his voice mockingly curious, “but it’s the blood, right? Always the blood. It is what we care about, that’s all that matters. Bloodlines, Castiel.”

“What are you trying to say?” Castiel dared to ask, not moving against Zachariah’s hold yet but not trying to hide her distaste.

“What you’re carrying in you, sister, is nothing but a worthless bundle of blood and bones. Nothing but a tool to us, something that gives us feet to stand and hands to kill. You’re adding one more inconsequential name to the long bloodline of Michael’s vessels.”

“Zachariah,” Castiel started, slowly moving out of the prison of his arms and through the sharp edged feathers arching around her. She turned and glared at him. “I will not stand to listen to such blasphemy.” She was gauging her chances of flight, but then Zachariah surprised her with loud laughter.

“See?” He balled his fist and grinned, shaking it at her. “ _That’s_ what I meant! You’re always so desperate to do what God wants,” he said and Castiel frowned at him. It disconcerted her how Zachariah managed to make this sound like an insult. “You are aware that humans will know paradise once Michael has won? Your beloved Dean will finally be at peace. Don’t you want that?” Castiel continued staring at him, but Zachariah was not deterred. “Of course you want that. You want to please that desperate, poor, broken boy. A little boy that wants nothing more than family.” Zachariah raised his finger and pointed to her middle. “And that is exactly what you’re promising him, Castiel! That’s his reward for serving Heaven!” Castiel stared at him, but didn’t react. Zachariah noticed and schooled his all too exited expression into a pleasant smile. He walked up to her, his arms spread harmlessly. “Sister”, he started and patted her shoulders, “that little _defect_ of yours gave us just the right tool we needed to get Dean to consent. You should have been smote the moment you lost proper control of your vessel.” Castiel lowered her head and kept silent. “An angel giving birth to a human child… You know that this is blasphemy, right? You know you are an abomination, Castiel?”

“I know,” she couldn’t help answering, but she stared right into Zachariah’s eyes. Zachariah grinned and pinched her cheek.

“Right. Of course you do, you’re not an idiot. But I promised, right? I promised we’d give you a proper wash once we’re done here. I promise you, Castiel, keep your eyes on the end game and you’ll be sure to receive great rewards from Michael himself.” Castiel didn’t reply, but nodded, hoping to be left alone, so she could go find the Winchesters. Even though Zachariah’s words had shaken her, she was far too concerned about stopping everything Heaven had planned to let herself be deterred.

“What do you want me to do?” Castiel said and her brother took this as a sign of acquiescence. Castiel didn’t miss the look of relief wash over her brother’s face before it was replaced by the benevolent smile again. Zachariah must really count on the unborn girl then, enough to not want to kill Castiel should she resist. At least that gave her a very small advantage against him if she had to fight her way out of this room.

“First of all,” Zachariah started, circling her casually, patting her shoulder again, “everyone needs to be in their proper place. You are where you’re supposed to be, Dean will follow shortly.” Zachariah stopped and moved his head from side to side with an accompanying shake of his hand. “Sam though,” he said in a doubtful tone, “he’s not quite where we want him to be. But it’ll be taken care of. You just sit tight, sister, and make yourself pretty for Dean.”

“What will you do to Sam?” Castiel demanded to know, bristling at the unsubtle threat. Zachariah didn’t react to the commanding tone of her voice and simply smiled. She was no danger to him, Zachariah knew, there were legions between them in might, oceans of Grace that she didn’t possess anymore and probably never had possessed even when in Heaven.

“Sit tight.” And with that Zachariah took flight. Even though she tried, the distortion of the sphere around her prevented her from locating Zachariah’s destination. She couldn’t lose any time, she had to get out of this room, she had to warn the brothers and she had to make sure that Anna had managed to save herself. Surely, Zachariah would have made a spiteful comment if they’d secured their devious sister, so Castiel deemed her relatively safe. The brothers though…

Castiel had to get out of this room and to Bobby’s where she expected the Winchesters to still be, but once she was through the door and in an empty warehouse she found a number of brothers stepping into her path.

“You mustn’t go out, sister,” she was told and ushered back into the room. They were polite – as the terrestrial garrison’s captain she outranked them – but insistent. It was also difficult not to sense the mix of curiosity and disapproval they emitted. They kept their prodding limbs and eyes to themselves but she felt the echoes of their thoughts. Corrupted, changed, out of control.  Abomination. She knew by now not to be so shocked by the reactions of her siblings, especially not by those that hadn’t had anything to do with humanity for millennia. Also, this was neither the time nor the place to be thrown off balance or to feel insecure.

She stood in the center of the room, thinking hard. These moments were decisive – Zachariah could harm Sam or break the final seal, possibly both. Dean could be hurt, the Apocalypse could be started. Castiel made a frustrated sound that bordered on a whine; it was enough to awaken her slumbering daughter, who reacted queerly to the new surroundings.

“Hush,” Castiel whispered at the fragments of awareness tickling her Grace. “I need you to go into your vessel, we don’t have much time.” The child clung stubbornly, even when Castiel wanted to shake her off forcefully. “It’s not time,” Castiel said with resigned realization and turned her eyes upwards in silent prayer.

* * *

 

Castiel was making up her mind to fight her way through her brothers when she felt them leave. She wasn’t sure if they were called elsewhere, if Zachariah no longer needed her to stay out of the way or if the lack of surveillance was a trap. At this point though Castiel was willing to take the chance.

She was at Bobby Singer’s house in no time and felt at once that she was too late. Bobby jumped up from his chair when she appeared. Books were piled on his desk, loose pages and empty bottles littered the work surface, and he held a telephone in his hand.

“Damn you-“ Bobby started, then he tossed the phone away and got as close to her as he dared. “Where were you?!”

“Zachariah had me confined, I escaped as fast as I could,” she explained and Bobby deflated, his eyes widening, “I am unhurt but I see that I am too late.” Sam was gone and sparks of Grace still lingered in the air. Anna had been here, as had Zachariah and the brothers that had been stationed to guard her. She was unsure what had transpired but she assumed the worst; either Anna was hid well, destroyed or sent back to Heaven.

“That angel guy suddenly showed up here with an entourage, dragged Sam out of the panic room and sent him God knows where. That other one, Anna I think was her name, got in his way and all hell broke loose. I am surprised that my house is still standing and we’re left to tell the tale,” Bobby’s said gruffly and jerked his head towards the kitchen. “Dean’s outside. Better do some damage control.” Castiel nodded and joined Dean in the junk yard. He was sitting on the hood of his car, tense all over, but he sprung up at once when he saw Castiel.

“ _Shit_! Shit I thought he got you too!” Dean shouted and approached with the dangerous glint of violence in his eyes, but he enfolded her in a tight, almost crushing embrace. “I called to you, a dozen times! But you didn’t reply! They took Sam, I have no idea what they did to Anna! Jesus Christ!”

“I’m so sorry Dean that I couldn’t come sooner…” Dean let her go again, taking a trembling step back until he could fall against the car, looking tired and drained. “Tell me what happened.” Dean didn’t do anything for a moment, then he reached out his hand without looking. Castiel grasped it and let herself be pulled close to him, pressed to the metal of the car and the soft warmth of Dean.

“Anna came here to tell us about a crazy kind of conspiracy. She said Lilith was the last seal and we had to stop trying to find and kill her. That was some heavy stuff, Cas. But then that dick appeared. And everything went downhill.” Dean took a moment to compose himself, to let Castiel press a kiss to his quivering lips and moist lashes. “I don’t even know if Sam and Anna are still alive! Zachariah spoke about devotion and obedience to Heaven’s Will. I told him to shove it up his ass, but then there was this huge blast and Anna was gone. And the next thing I knew he had Sam. He said he’s got me just where he wants me to be, that he has all the things I care about. My brother, you, my kid… And that I should just bend over and say yes to Heaven. And for fuck’s sake, I did. I said I’d swear allegiance if he just let you all go. But then he made Sam… I don’t know. He was just gone!”

“I trust your brother is not physically harmed to an unredeemable extend,” Castiel assured him but felt it fall flat when Dean just snorted. “He has plans, for both of you it seems. But mostly you. Zachariah is not a strategist, but even he would not make the mistake of removing Sam permanently.”

“Plans… You angels and your plans!” Dean spat, but then he hissed and drew his palm over his face. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it like that.” Castiel tilted her head to the side slightly, contemplating Dean.

“I too feel great disappointment, Dean… This is… I guess you’d say my family has seriously messed up,” she tried and Dean couldn’t help the small grin that appeared on his lips.  Castiel saw and felt Dean regaining his composure and was glad for it. She understood how Anna’s revelation and Zachariah taking Sam must have impacted him emotionally, but they had to plan and act now if they wanted to still prevent Lucifer from being freed from his cage.

“So… The angels want their Apocalypse… All Zach told me is that he needed me to end it and to kill Lucifer. That’s not… _Cas_ … I told you I can’t do that…!”

“Zachariah wasn’t entirely honest with you,” Castiel explained and Dean raised an eyebrow at her. Of course, her brother’s dishonesty didn’t surprise Dean much, but she was still saddened by the fact that Dean had cause enough not to believe in angels. “You are the archangel Michael’s vessel, Dean,” she went on, “if you agree to house him, he will use you to defeat Lucifer should he rise…” Dean stared at her with wide eyes, shock painted on his features until he scowled.

“Like, what… Like you’re wearing Jamie?” Dean asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Castiel replied cautiously, “but not quite. My Grace is relatively dim in comparison to my brother’s. It could destroy you entirely. So don’t say yes. You won’t have cause to say yes if we stop Lucifer.” Dean still seemed confounded by this information on top of all the other unpleasant things he must have heard today.

“We need to find Sam! We can’t have Zach stage a showdown between Lilith and Sam!” he said after a while, because saving Sam was a concept he understood and felt at home in. Castiel knew from experience that it took a long time for a human to understand what being a vessel meant and mostly they still had no idea what they were getting into once they said their life-forfeiting _yes_. “Can you locate him?”Castiel lifted her head and expanded her awareness.

“I can trace him to a certain degree, but not enough. Zachariah’s Grace must conceal him,” Castiel explained with a frustrated sigh. Dean cursed and she looked at him. “Hand me your phone.” Dean blinked in surprise but gave her the phone.

“Do you think there’s reception wherever he’s sent him?” Dean asked but Castiel was already holding the phone to her ear. It took a while until there was an answer.

_“Dean?! Man, what happened?! Are you okay?!”_

“Sam,” Castiel said calmly, overriding Sam’s frantic talking. “Where are you?”

_“Castiel? I don’t know… In a warehouse of some sorts. I woke up just a couple of minutes ago and have been searching for a door.”_

“Are you on your own?” Castiel wondered, waiting and hoping to get a clearer grasp on Sam, but his location still eluded her.

“Yes.”

“The place is probably warded, this is why I can’t find you. Try to get out and I’ll pick you up,” she said and handed the phone over to Dean, who blinked at her in surprise before he started talking to Sam. Castiel wondered what Zachariah’s purpose was. A place warded in a way that made it untraceable for angels? Why?

“Hey you two! Come in and explain!” Bobby called from the house, pulling Castiel out of her thoughts. Dean was already done with his phone call and looked at Castiel questioningly. She nodded and then followed Dean inside, where they gathered into the kitchen. It didn’t take long to fill whatever Bobby had missed about their current situation.

“So we’re running out of time. We don’t know where the final seal is supposed to be broken, so we can’t stay away from Lilith.”

“Staying away from her permanently is not an option. As soon as we’ve conducted the purification ritual we can kill her,” Castiel explained.

“But what if Zachariah zapped Sam away where he’s bound to run into Lilith?” Bobby wondered and Dean drew in a sharp breath through his nose.

“Sam must be weakened, as he is he won’t be able to take her on,” Castiel replied, “I don’t think that dying by Lilith’s hand is what Zachariah has planned for him. If Sam drank a lot of demon blood he’d be able to destroy her…”

“Do you think that’s what Zach wants? Pump him full of demon blood and make him fight against Lilith?” Dean managed to ask and Castiel saw how he warred with himself. “We can’t let that happened to Sam, not after all he went through!”

“No, we won’t…” Castiel said, “we must hold on long enough for me to perform the ritual.” Silence descended and Castiel was slightly surprised by the tense atmosphere following her words.

“So…,” Bobby finally started, but once Castiel looked at him he faltered and fell silent. She turned to look at Dean quizzically and he seemed uneasy too.

“Cas… Can you force labor?” he asked, “because that’s what we need, right? We need the baby and her blood.” Castiel nodded slowly and Dean reached out his hand to rub his palm over her belly. She was unsure whether the soothing circles were to ease her or himself.

“I can force it… But…” she shook her head and Dean slumped against the counter, heaving a sigh. “The likelihood that she’ll be a fully functioning… person is unlikely… However, there is the fact that we only need her blood for the ritual…”

“No way!” It was Bobby who spoke up, his voice agitated. “We’re not sacrificing anyone for this! Especially not your kid!”

“I know Bobby, I’d rather face down the devil than lose my family,” Dean agreed and turned his eyes towards Castiel. “If you’re ready we’ll try. Until then we must find a way to get to Sam and to delay Lilith’s death.” Castiel nodded, relieved even though she knew that her thoughts – her _emotions_ – on the topic should be irrelevant.

“Then what can we do?” Castiel thought about that in silence, but then she reached out her hand, touching Dean’s chest.

“Hey what-“ Dean gasped as Castiel etched sigils into his ribs. “Shit!”

“Zachariah will want to find you, I’ve made you invisible to all angels,” she explained and turned to Bobby, who just lifted his hand.

“Thanks, but I’d rather not get angel branded,” he said and Castiel frowned, but nodded. She turned back to Dean.

“You might be invisible to Zachariah, but he knows where you are. He will surely try to come for you, so you best take your car and drive.” Dean nodded instantly, pushing off from the counter.

“Okay, fine,” he agreed.

“I’ll find out where Lilith is,” Castiel said and even though she felt the protest rising out of Dean, she flew, landing in the kitchen of Chuck Shurley.

“What the hell?! Castiel?!” The prophet was clutching a phone to his chest, staring up at her with wide eyes. “What are you… You’re not supposed to be here! You’re...”

“We’re making it up as we go,” she said which effectively shut Chuck up. “I need to know where Lilith is supposed to die.”

“Oh God,” Chuck lamented but he tossed the phone away and pulled the robe around his body. He rubbed his forehead, but then Castiel saw him widened his eyes. “Are you… Are you _pregnant_?”

“I am… I must have strayed far from Heaven’s plan if you have not seen this,” she answered and Chuck scratched his head, “Lilith’s location?”

“Oh, it’s a convent!” he started and Castiel could pluck the necessary information from his jumbled thoughts. “But you’re not supposed to be there, you’re-“ Chuck was cut off by a loud noise and the rattling of the house. “Oh not again!!” Castiel narrowed her eyes, she could feel Raphael descending.

“What danger do I pose?” Castiel asked, her voice carried through the channel Raphael had created.

_“You’ve been led astray, you are a danger to the fulfillment of Heaven’s Will. You are tainted, you carry that stain. You have become an abomination,”_ Raphael replied solemnly, with an edge of anger accompanying the ringing of his voice. Faintly she could still perceive Chuck tottering about the kitchen complaining and tugging at her.

“Heaven’s Will is not the Will of God,” Castiel answered and felt the responding righteous fury rustle her wings.

_“I should strike you down for that blasphemy alone,”_ Raphael said, but there was no action following his words.

“And still you stay your hand,” Castiel spoke into the roar of Raphael’s almost overwhelming Grace. “I’m not endangering the Prophet, Raphael. Let me go so that I can try to stop the Apocalypse.”

_“The Apocalypse cannot be stopped, it has been thought up by our Father. It has to happen. It will happen. It is a disgrace for me to see you try to do something as foolish.”_

“If you do not think I’ll succeed then there’s no harm in letting me try. If I don’t fail then Heaven’s Will wasn’t absolute. If I do fail you can look at it as destiny.” Raphael was silent for a while, but then Castiel felt the Grace above her head shift and there was a light press upon her scalp. Raphael patted her head.

_“Nobody will put you back on your feet if you stumble,”_ he warned, _“you will fall and carry that stain.”_

“I will carry it with pride,” Castiel replied firmly and Raphael departed, leaving her in a suddenly silent, static and dark kitchen. Chuck still had a fist-full of her coat and she looked down at him.

“I thought he’d kill you or something!” he hissed and Castiel nodded. “Man, this is all messed up. I need something to drink.”

“Thank you for your help.” Chuck shrugged in defeat and Castiel left him to his own after he too had given her a pat on her shoulder. She felt Sam’s presence at the edge of her awareness. She assumed that he was out of the warehouse, but some of its magic still clung to him. It gave her time enough to access a public phone.

_“Dammit, Cas! Don’t just disappear on me!”_ Dean’s agitation was to be expected. _“Where the hell are you anyway?!”_ Castiel could hear the rumble of an engine in the background, Dean was most likely still driving.

“I visited the Prophet. I know when and where the final seal is supposed to be broken by Sam.”

_“By Sam?! He can’t do it! He’ll die!”_ She wanted to reply, but then Sam was suddenly available to her, a faint glimmer of light not even that far away.

“Dean, I have found Sam, I will send him back to you.”

_“Cas, come on wait a second!”_ Dean’s voice was loud enough that she could perceive it even though she had wanted to hang up.

“What?”

_“What?! Don’t you see any problems in what you’re doing?!”_ Dean sounded both agitated and incredulous. _“Awful shit is happening and you’re flying all over the place! You don’t know if you’re on Zachariah’s hit list!”_

“Likely, but we’re running out of time, Dean. Swiftness of action is more important than steering clear of risks,” she replied and could hear Dean groan on.

_“Cas, I don’t want… I don’t want anything to happen to you, you hear?”_ Castiel smiled.

“Yes… I’m not taking unnecessary risks,” she promised, “I’ll take Sam back to you. Where are you now?” Dean told her the street name and the town he would mostly access the first motel he could. “Very well. I will join you soon.” Now she terminated the call and concentrated on that flicker of Sam, letting herself slip through spheres until she was closer. He wasn’t alone.

Ruby jumped in front of Sam the moment Castiel appeared and didn’t take her eyes off her even when Sam gave a relieved call.

“Ruby, she’s on our side!” Sam insisted, shoving the still scowling Ruby out of the way.

“That doesn’t say anything. You can’t trust angels, just because your brother had his dick in one.” Castiel frowned and Sam groaned before he hissed at Ruby to shut up. Ruby did shut up, though not because she had protested enough, but because her eyes fell on Castiel’s form. “Ruby,” Sam warned.

“You are a way off from your first location I assume. How did you join up with the demon?” Castiel wondered, not reacting to the various expressions flitting over Ruby’s face, but she was aware of them. Surprise, incredulity, fear and now something more assessing, almost scheming. She didn’t trust Ruby, not only because she was a demon, also because she’d led Sam down a path that would eventually end in killing Lilith.

“Once I got out she called me, she had been worried about my absence. She wasn’t that far away, so she drove here. We joined up only a couple of minutes ago,” Sam replied, but Castiel knew that he could read the suspicion on her face. He reached out and put his hands on Castiel’s upper arms. “Look… Ruby’s been helping all along… She’s my friend, Cas… Just because she’d a demon doesn’t means he’s bad. It’s like with angels, right? You’re good too, right?” Castiel disliked that comparison and felt saddened by the fact that it still rang true. So she nodded and looked at Ruby.

“Now that we’ve established that we’re all on the same side, can we get going? I heard that Lilith will break the last seal tonight. If we kill her now then we’re off the hook, but I guess Sam here isn’t strong enough yet and an angel of your rank and in such a state of disrepair?”

“Our objective isn’t to kill Lilith, it’s to stall time,” Castiel replied evenly, “and my state isn’t affecting my ability to fight. Though I agree that Lilith is powerful and the outcome of a battle between us would not necessarily be in my favor.” Ruby shrugged.

“That’s what I say, so we have to strengthen up Sam, because he actually has a fair chance to kill her!” Castiel raised her eyebrow and Sam shook his head.

“You want to feed him demon blood?” Castiel asked.

“He needs it! Just look at what you’ve done to him! He’s in a terrible state because of you and Dean!”

“I assume he’s in a terrible state because he drank demon blood and is suffering symptoms of withdrawal,” Castiel countered and Ruby made an exasperated sound.

“Look, mama angel, I know your heavenly squad and that hypocrite of a brother won’t take my side on this, but it’s kept Sam alive and that’s the important thing.” Castiel couldn’t quite agree on that, so she said nothing, but it was true that she was grateful for Sam’s survival. Sam started saying something, but both Castiel and Ruby tensed and he stopped at once.

“We need to leave,” Castiel said, feeling Zachariah near-by, “quickly.” But Zachariah was already there, cocking his head at her with a smirk.

“There you are, dearest sister, I had wondered where you went off to. It seems you found me my demon slayer.” Zachariah looked at Sam smugly. “And his bitch,” he added with a snort. Ruby stepped behind Sam now, but Zachariah’s attention was back on Castiel. “I don’t quite know what you’re doing here, but I told you to stay were you were. Naughty little child, I think you need to go to your room when we’re done here,” he said with a smirk and advanced a step. With a snap of his fingers their location had changed and Castiel recognized it immediately as the convent where Lilith would be. But it was too early, evening, not mid-night.

“Things aren’t going as smoothly as we hoped, I knew you’d give us trouble, Castiel. But dangling you in front of Dean’s nose in chains is more effective anyway than a subtle attempt at persuasion,” Zachariah said and there was Lilith, walking in the room. She hid her surprise well beneath a sneer at all of them.

“Foolish little games you’re playing here, aren’t you?” Lilith asked, letting her eyes roam over the gathered people, then she smirked at Sam. “What’s the matter? You want to kill me? It looks like a small wind could throw you off your feet!” Ruby was restless and Zachariah kept his charm.

“Don’t worry Sam, you’ve got a bit of heavenly assistance. You can do it. Kill Lilith and do something useful for once!” Zachariah called, catching the eye of Lilith and she laughed at him.

“I won’t let Sam break the last seal,” Castiel said and touched the forehead of both Sam and Ruby, sending Sam off to where he assumed Dean would be. Zachariah shouted in alarm, but Castiel had added inscriptions to Sam’s ribs before pushing him through space. She had taken care to send Ruby somewhere else, where she could do no harm for the moment if she had planned to, but still safe. Because she was Sam’s friend after all, even though she didn’t trust her.

“Castiel.” Zachariah’s voice was warning and Lilith’s laughter rang through the vault. She was defying Heaven’s Will, she was going against Zachariah. She knew that this meant; this was rebellion. She would be hunted down and most likely be killed. But she knew it was the right thing to do. She had to. Zachariah turned towards Lilith and Castiel took this moment to slice open her wrist and to draw a sigil on the wall. Zachariah noticed, but Castiel slammed her palm onto the bloody sign and with a flash Zachariah was gone. She knew that it was only for a short moment that she had delayed it. She would need to grab Lilith and hide her somewhere if she wanted to prevent her death.

“Lilith. Your death is the last seal of Lucifer’s cage. I assume that you do not want to die. I will-“

“You will what? Protect me? Send me back to Hell for my own safety? Poor angel, how far you’re slipping down.” Lilith shook her head, wearing a sneer on her lips. “We’ll make you one of us yet. It was unfortunate that I wasn’t in hell when you came to pick up Dean Winchester’s tattered soul. I would have grabbed your wings and painted you so prettily.” Lilith walked up to her, her white dress rustling as she moved. “I would have watched you soak up the dirt and the despair until you were as dull and corrupted as one of us.”

“Zachariah will soon return,” Castiel replied, not reacting to her taunts even though she wasn’t unaffected. She had been to hell and there had been moments where she had braced herself to the fact that she might not get out again. She remembered the color of Dean’s hand, wet palms grabbing for her and leaving stains where he could touch. She remembered how the hellish coat he wore had burnt as he trashed inside of her hands. She had not lost any of her soldiers and even though they were too late the mission had been successful. But she wouldn’t forget it, she would not forget the fear it had instilled in her. And here Lilith was, touching her with human fingertips but foulness underneath.

“Let him return,” the demon whispered and Castiel had just one moment of shocked recognition before Zachariah was indeed there, vesselless, pure Grace burning the demon out of her shell. And Lilith laughed and screamed at the same time until she fell limp into Castiel’s arms and Castiel felt something snap inside her, a sudden punch within her chest that ripped a part of her open and made her gasp as Grace pooled at the wound, swirling and swirling and draining away, wisp by wisp.

“Heaven’s Will shall be done,” she heard Zachariah hiss victoriously through the roaring noise of her wailing Grace and her child trashing against it.

Lilith’s body was limp on the floor when Castiel stopped being blind to the human plane, she saw blood pool in circles on the cold stone, slowly, a dark trail and Zachariah’s laughter lingered even when he had retreated. Castiel couldn’t do anything, she stared even as the circle closed and the door to Lucifer’s Cage opened. She could hear him sing praise from the unknown depths into which he had been cast. She could feel him, could feel his fingers close around her wing-tips, he could feel his voice seeping into her and his smile burning in her mind.

And before everything exploded with the freeing of Lucifer, Castiel was pulled away, through the light and spheres into a vast darkness.

Castiel just had one last thought. Lucifer had risen.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued in part two but I'll need time to write and edit, so we'll have a mini hiatus! ;D  
> (I don't know if I'll just start a series or keep updating this. Any thoughts on how I should best do it?)
> 
> Happy New Year everybody! ♥


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